Infectious
by IntangibleBee
Summary: Tweek begins to have strange visions after a large horde of cannibalistic monsters ravaged South Park. In order to find out what the premonitions mean, he's going to have to survive the apocalypse. (CREEK)
1. Premonition

Tweek Tweke Tweak wasn't completely aware of the events that had taken place less than two hours prior, although he had witnessed everything that had transpired. Along with the catastrophe, he was having second hand guilt about all of it. Out of everyone, out of that five hundred student school and forty eight staff , and the slim chance of getting out alive, why and how did he manage to slip out without harm? There were many others on the campus who would have made twice the addition than he did; those without his jitters and sudden outbursts. So why did he deserve to make it out? There was not a scratch on Tweek, and for that he wasn't complaining. Which could not be said about anyone else in the car.

There was seven of them, piled in a scratched up mini-van that smelled of cigarettes and baby wipes. It wasn't the best mixture of aromas, and certainly not pleasant to any of the car's residents. Despite the smell, no one was saying anything about it because quality was not a priority at the time they had hot wired the vehicle. Instead, it was replaced with the question "Can and will this get us the hell out of this godforsaken town?".

Tweek wondered how the car had such a clean exterior yet harbored such a foul smell.

He was not extremely sure as to how Stan Marsh had been so level headed that he had actually taken it upon himself to drive the entire car full of sobbing seventeen-year-olds out of the freshly-bloodied town of South Park. In fact, he was not sure how he even joined their makeshift escape team of seven. All he remembered was Token grabbing Tweek's shaking hand in his strong one, and leading him out the back door of the school. It had been where the taller boy spotted Stan and his gang slipping out in a frantic rush.

They had ran to the parking lot with the group, which had consisted of Butters Stotch, Eric Cartman, Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick and Stan. Tweek had no doubt in his mind that it was Eric who had led them out of the cafeteria like Token had done for him, out the backdoor, and to the small parking lot that had been out there for as long as Tweek could remember.

That parking lot was usually used for large semi-trucks that had the school's deliveries, and there was scarcely any cars that parked there. If Tweek had to admit anything to himself, it was that it had been very fortunate that Kenny had spotted the previously clean silver mini-van at the end of the pavement. Kyle was the first to voice his worry of not being able to access the vehicle and being forced to leave the town on foot, which of course would not have left anyone in the group alive. Kenny, being the mysterious individual he was, had waved Kyle off hastily as he swung open the front door with ease. The group stood in an anxious silence as the blonde teen ripped open the compartment just below the steering wheel, and pulled two multicolored wires and joined them together, creating a spark.

The car started with a sputtering hum just as the door they had use slip out of the school burst open. A ghoulish monster stumbled out; the once beautiful girl Tweek recognized as Red quickly spotted the group across the parking lot, and screeched. Before Tweek could process that the monster was charging for _him_ , Token had shoved him into the car behind Stan. The frightened blonde rushed to mumble something about Craig Tucker, a boy they had left behind in the cafeteria , but was cut off by the harsh slam of the van door.

Kenny pulled away as soon as Cartman's door had closed, swerving to avoid running into Red's moaning corpse. The sudden movement jerked everyone to the right, but more importantly brought everyone's eyes to the monster. Tweek could hear Butters shriek from the seat behind him, and Kyle yelled, "Oh my god, is that Red?!"

"It was…" Cartman had mumbled from the seat in front of Tweek.

Kenny had scathed the car slightly on a foundation of a lamppost, but the damage was nothing compared to the dent Red's body would've caused. Given that he would hit her instead of swerving. The girl was in no way large, in fact Tweek doubted the girl ever dealt with weight insecurities. But he knew hitting a groaning corpse could have quite possibly halted the car altogether.

So as Kenny drove around the school messily, the entire car got a nice eyeful of what had become of the building they had left no less than ten minutes ago. The entire group was in an intense silence as they beheld the school, that was currently engulfed in bright flames. No one questioned what could have possibly set the large structure ablaze because at the time it didn't matter to any of them. They were far too busy being thankful that they had escaped.

Kenny cut out of the truck lane and through the parking lot which now held lingering monsters, that all made an attempt to chase their car. Tweek looked down the moment he began recognizing some of the ghouls, for lack of a better word, that were littered around the school's campus. There were some of them whose names escaped Tweek, but he knew he once acquainted with them, most were complete strangers to everyone in the car, and few he knew closely.

He stared at the dull floor instead, in fear of seeing one of his close friends now warped into a flesh eating monster.

It wasn't long before Kenny had managed to merge the van out onto the highway that laced through South Park's middle. No one had to question where they were going, because they could already tell that the driver was leading them to the suburban area of their panicked town. No one questioned Kenny's directions. Whether it was because of the depth of their current situation setting into their minds like thick tar, or everyone was too frightened to speak, Tweek wasn't sure. He wasn't sure about much at all, in fact.

The tension was so dense in the car that it could easily be as thick as the tar that was hypothetically settling itself into the van's shared consciousness. Tweek decided it was shared because he knew everyone was thinking relatively the same thought; "What the fuck just happened?"

A few of the diseased monsters were on the street, but seemed disinterested in their caravan. Tweek temporarily wondered if the kinds of monsters varied, such as the ones that were completely brain dead when it came to instincts, and the kinds that Red had turned into. But maybe, there was one trait all the ghouls shared, which was "Eat humans, nothing less, nothing more.".

Tweek supposed that that could be considered an instinct.

As they passed the familiar, multicolored homes that were now painted with dark blood, Butters began to whimper loudly. Tweek knew that Stan and Kyle were both crying; albeit in hushed fits rather than Butters' understandable tantrum. Tweek had never been one to sob or cry, as his tears were never consoled when he was younger. He learned the hard way that bawling to no end would not solve anything; much due to his parents neglectfulness when he was maturing.

And as the silver car passed a familiar mulberry house that was now splashed in dark bodily fluids, no tears formed in his olive eyes.

"Where are we going?" Cartman asked as they neared the end of the cul de sac. The words barely dented the cement thick tension that had sunk deep into the car's atmosphere, but because it was the first words anyone had spoke since they left the school, it was a start.

It was a redundant question, however, because everybody else in the car had already realized where Kenny had been driving them.

"Karen was sick today," he mumbled as he shifted the gears in the van to "parked". The blonde hesitated as he reached for the door handle. No one in the car dared to remind Kenny that there was not nearly enough space for another to fit without endangering them, but on another hand nothing really would be safe anymore anyways.

And perhaps, Tweek thought as Kenny stepped out of the car, nothing ever will be again.

It was quiet in the car for a moment, discluding Butters' sobbing. Tweek heard Kyle shift in the backseat so he was peering out the back window. Stan did the same thing shortly after.

"Dude, what are these things?" he could hear Stan ask quietly.

"They're almost like zombies man," came Kyle's reply.

"They probably are," Cartman butted in.

It was quiet again after that. Tweek allowed his mind to search for any explanation. He had managed to (relatively) suppress his anxiety thus far, but at the word "zombies" panic spread from his heart and throughout his chest. He began shaking much more violently than he was previously, whispering "Oh god what are we going to?" over and over again, as if it would change anything. Butters used tears to express his fears, Tweek used words and panicked gestures.

Tweek averted his shaking vision from the floor to the back of Cartman's seat. As he leaned slightly to the left he got a better view of the overweight teen, who seemed to have conjured up a bag of potato chips from his backpack and was munching loudly on them.

"How are you so careless of this?" Kyle snapped, facing the front of the car again.

Cartman didn't reply immediately, but it seemed that he would not have to altogether because by that time Kenny had emerged from the rotting house again. The remaining six stared at the teen as he pulled down his parka hood and vomited all over the pavement in front of them. A heavy blanket of anxiety and fear wrapped itself around the car's passengers as the blonde finished his puking fit. The shared consciousness began to conjure another thought; "Is he one of _them_?"

Stan had unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted through the car, leaning his body slightly outside the sliding door to Token's left. His body shifted awkwardly as he asked, "Dude, are you okay?"

Kenny didn't respond right away, instead he stumbled over to Stan and grabbed him by the shoulders, wailing, "She's dead!" Tweek's fears for Kenny worsened as he turned from Stan and puked more, this time the substance wasn't food but instead consisted of an acidic bile. The black haired boy stepped out of the car and helped Kenny stand up straight again.

"I'll drive," Stan volunteered, releasing Kenny and opening the front seat.

Stan slid into the car as Token shut the sliding door behind Kenny who had broken down before he reached the backseat. As Stan pulled the hijacked car out and away from Kenny's driveway, Butters had joined his friend in a sob session. It was obvious that Kyle was uncomfortable, pressed up against the side of the car as Butters leaned over on Kenny to cry, but he didn't say anything.

Token had been silent the entire time, so it surprised Tweek when the dark boy had moved his hand down and interlocked his fingers for the second time that day. Tweek took a daring peek down at their hands, but calmed down enough to squeeze Token's silently. Then he looked away and tried to block out Kenny's wailing sobs from the backseat.

As they slowly pulled out of the cul de sac, Kyle piped up, "I have to find Ike."

The words lingered in the air for a moment, but Stan soon replied, "Going into a school zone is too risky, Dude."

"I don't care, he's only a fifth grader," Kyle snapped.

Stan shook his head, but merged out onto the highway in the direction of the elementary school anyways.

Tweek shared Stan's worries, and it seemed that all of them did. Going to a school in such a time? Their own high school had caught on _fire_ , Tweek could only imagine what could have happened to their old school. Had it already been tainted by the ghouls? Was it already torn down by flames or monsters? What if some of the kids had turned, like Red had?

What if Ike had, too?

So as if some divine intervention had occurred, as the van rolled down the deserted highway, Cartman was the first to spot four black dressed figures standing besides a navy Lincoln. The tallest of them was leaning on the car while another two stood idly by, as the van approached they could make out two shorter figures, one fiddling with the lock of the car and the other close next to him.

Their van eventually came to a stop besides the other vehicle. Cartman squinted his eyes and mumbled about "Fucking goth fags," but the car was otherwise quiet. Tweek swallowed roughly as he could hear Kyle shifting around behind him. The "Fucking goth fags," were now highly aware of their presence, and probably saw the car far before the van full of teens recognized the angsty group, and their little add on.

They just didn't expect the van to stop next to them.

"Oh my god," Kyle stood up, except it was more of a crouch because of how the low the van's ceiling hung, and cut through the middle.

Tweek pressed his legs close to his seat as Kyle moved to exit the car, easily slipping past the spastic blonde and leaving. Kyle crouched to his knees and, as soon as the smaller figure saw him step out, hugged the redhead. Tweek blinked, he didn't recognize the kid for immediately. It soon dawned upon him that it was Kyle's younger brother. They exchanged some hushed words, sentences that were spoken too quietly for Tweek's hearing to pick up on.

Stan had also stepped out of the car and made his way around the front and next to the two idle characters while the tallest looked to them dully. Henrietta, Tweek realized, had a hand on her hip and was speaking some words that he couldn't quite make out clearly. Something about Ike and, although it was obviously hard for her to admit, that they were all relieved to see other people instead of monsters.

The boy next to her with dyed red hair, whose name Tweek did not recall, spoke much clearer; saying that he didn't mind that flesh eating monsters were ravaging their "conformist" town, and that it was not the worst thing that Stan was alive either. With a flip of his dyed hair, the goth had averted his eyes from Stan, to the car for a moment, then to where Kyle and Ike were.

It seemed that the other small figure had managed to unlock the car and had come around saying slowly, "Okay, Michael, I did my job."

Michael pushed away from the car with a quiet grunt, and moved towards where the smaller kid previously was, moving into the car and out of Tweek's line of vision. After a moment of this, the car hummed to life. The two who were speaking with Stan had turned towards the car, and then the girl did something unexpected. She had wrapped her arms around Stan for a moment, then released him and slid into the passenger seat.

Also at this time, Kyle had hugged Ike, kissing his forehead. The two remained there for longer than Stan and Henrietta had, but eventually pulled away. Ike got into the car behind the smaller goth, and then the one with the red dye got in as well. The group pulled away shortly after.

As soon as Kyle has returned to the backseat, the name came back to Tweek.

The teen's name was Pete.

…

"So what was that all about?" Cartman asked as Stan pulled away in the opposite direction.

"She wished us good luck. Which I think was the nicest thing I've seen any of them do," Stan shrugged.

"I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to Kahl," Cartman snapped at Stan, altering his gaze from the driver to the rear view mirror.

"Ike wanted to go with them," Kyle choked out, obviously in distress over his brother's decision, but not nearly as Kenny was over Karen's death.

The poor boy wailed as if someone was slowly skinning him alive, "I tried so hard to protect her," he would cry from behind Tweek occasionally, "From everything that could harm her, everything."

Tweek had so much pity for him, to lose someone so dear was alien to him. He was never close to anyone, his family considered him a spaz and the only friends who cared for him was Token, another boy named Clyde Donovan, and Craig Tucker. Tweek temporarily pondered if his family or friends were still alive; Token obviously was, but what did that leave for Clyde, Craig, and everyone else he had left behind at South Park High?

Tweek was broken out of his thoughts by Kenny, who had abruptly stopped crying. In fact, it seemed that the entire car had stopped breathing altogether. Tweek's eyebrows furrowed, but a fear deep inside his chest prevented him from glancing up. What if it was impending doom? What if there was hundreds, no thousands of ghouls waiting beyond the windshield? What if there was a meteor in the sky?

It wasn't until the van rolled to a stop that Tweek had reluctantly glanced up. Relief had spread through him in a small wave, there were a few ghouls, and although they may cause doom; it wouldn't be his, and no meteor was going to create a crater so massive it would cause worldwide extinction starting with them. However, he still gasped as he squinted at what was left of South Park's mall district.

Everything, which was an understatement, was ablaze. The restaurants, parts of the street, the mall itself and the papers that littered around the road were being devoured by flames. The sight had everyone's face lit up in an orange glow, despite it being a relatively sunny day. They all stared, speechless for what felt like the hundredth time that hour. Shattered glass was sprinkled generously on the sidewalk, lampposts were dented where cars had rammed into them, and corpses were rare, but still present on the street.

The car was quiet for a moment, then a loud shriek sounded from behind the car. It pierced through their stagnated atmosphere and all heads were turned around within a matter of milliseconds. A ghoul who had caught fire was charging straight towards their van many meters behind the vehicle, but was shortening that distance quickly.

For a brief second, no one moved out of fear, but Cartman eventually shouted, "Oh my god! Stan move!"

Stan was silent, a look of pure shock expressed on his dirtied face. He didn't move, but then shouted, "Dude! That's my Uncle!"

Token was the first to do something as what was once Jimbo approached with a stumbling speed. He released Tweek's hand and shifted himself so he was leaning over the front seat, moving one leg over Stan's. He latched both of his hands onto the steering wheel, shouting, "Not anymore, he's not!"

The car moved forward in an awkward lurch; it was obvious that Token had little to none experience driving something so old fashioned before. He manage to create a good distance between them and Jimbo's groaning corpse, before Stan had gathered his bearings and taken over before the darker male had crashed them into a street lamp. Said boy moved backwards into his seat and buckled himself back up.

Tweek began to think about the possibilities of Jimbo contracting whatever it was that had made people turn into the cannibalistic monsters. He owned a _gun shop_ for Chrissake, how is it possible that even one of those creatures got within one hundred meters from that man. Was it that really that contagious? Was it even a disease? What if it was some sort of super virus? Was it in his system now? Could he stop it? Would his friends have to kill him? Or will he kill them first?

What if it really was the doom of him?

…

Kenny had stopped wailing around the time the cramped van sped out of the city limits, and was now mumbling in sorrow to himself. Butters had fallen asleep, and Kyle had eventually taken over Stan's position as driver. Token was wide awake next to Tweek, and their fingers were interlaced once more. It calmed Tweek down a bit, but if he was honest with himself he wish he wasn't holding Token's hand; but rather had a grasp on a certain boy he left behind.

If Tweek was honest with himself, he would know that Craig was either dead or a flesh eating ghoul.

But Tweek wasn't ready to admit that to himself yet, neither of those ends seemed appealing at the time. He had leaned his shaking frame up against the window, his eyes closing for a moment and thinking about what had transpired two hours prior, wondering if he'd ever see South Park again. The town had an infamous history of strange shit happening, and he wondered if this would resolve within the next day. It seemed highly unlikely, but so was guinea pigs aiming for world domination and gnomes that steal your underpants in the dead of night.

Tweek lips curled into a petite smile, remembering what he now regarded as "simpler times".

He thought back to when there was another zombie apocalypse that was ravaging South Park, but this time the circumstances were much different. They weren't silly Nazi zombies, they don't take turns fighting or play by the rules, and there was no New Kid to save the world from them. Now, there were just zombies, fire and corpses. Kenny's little sister was dead now, which was the first time there had been any personal death to Tweek. On top of all these odds, all the strange things ceased occurring when he and his friends turned twelve, and moved to sixth grade.

Simpler times indeed.

His thoughts were shattered when Cartman had complained, now from the seat behind Token, "I'm hungry, guys."

"Of course you are, Fatass," Kyle mumbled, staring forward to the winding Colorado road.

"I don't know Kyle," Stan turned to his friend, "I am too, and I don't think any of us had much lunch either because…" he didn't continue, and Tweek didn't blame him because everyone already knew what he was going to say next.

"Well, I know there's a gas station in a few miles," Butters added meekly, now awake, "I remember because my parents took me on a road trip out this way last summer, and I had to go to the bathroom real bad and it was a nice and quiet place."

The car was silent again, and Tweek knew it was because Butters had mentioned parents. But the blonde was nonchalant about the subject because he didn't want his parents to be alive anyways. The only person who knew this fact, and every other secret Tweek ever had, was probably dead; and that's what upset him enough to continue the silence.

It was only five o'clock, but the sun was already making its descent down the rocky mountain side, causing a shadow to envelope their car. Tweek opened his eyes, staring at the mountains to his left that were still caressed by sunlight. Whoever planned this road was stupid, Tweek decided, there was so much space in the valley that they could've built a road there. That way the van wouldn't have to swerve so crazily as the road shifted and bent according to the mountain side's curves and crevices.

Tweek sighed.

"Thank god," Kyle breathed, the car had accelerated briefly before it slowed back down to its previous speed, "We're almost out of gas."

Butters had turned around, and was peering down at the trunk of the car, "Hey Fellas, do we know whose car this is?"

Kenny mumbled something incoherently, Kyle shrugged and Stan replied, "No, why?"

Before Butters could respond, Cartman added in a bored tone, "It's our old principal's, I found his licence in the glove compartment."

"Didn't he used to golf?" Kyle asked, his brows furrowed.

"How is that relevant?" Stan faced Kyle, giving his friend an odd look from the passenger seat.

"Well, uh, that's why I'm asking. There's some clubs back here and, uh, we don't know if-" but before Butters could finish Cartman sprang up; "Oh my god, we could totally kick some zombie ass with these!"

Tweek turned to find both boys peering down at the trunk, something that was obscured from his vision.

"They aren't zombies, Fatass," Kyle snapped, glaring at Cartman through the rear view mirror before his gaze fell upon the road again.

"Well then what the hell are they, fucking Jew?" Cartman retaliated.

Kyle was silent. Stan replied for him, "Well, they're obviously something like a zombie, but why don't we call them something else?"

"What do you mean?" Butters asked leaning further over the back of his seat, attempting to reach at one of the putters.

"Like, in _The Walking Dead_ , they called zombies 'Walkers,' not plain zombies." Stan shrugged, "Maybe it could just be a bit more descriptive or maybe even creative if we call them something else."

The car was wrapped by a pregnant silence.

"How about 'Biters', or 'Screechers,'?" Kyle suggested after a minute.

"Khal, have we seen those things bite?" Cartman asked smugly.

"No, but we have seen them screech," the redhead retorted quickly.

It was quiet again.

"Infectious," Tweek mumbled.

"What?" Stan asked, turning around in his seat.

It wasn't until Tweek's olive eyes met Stan's sapphire ones that he realized his friend was addressing him.

"Oh um," Tweek shook in his seat, "I said infectious. We could call them that."

Cartman looked at the shivering boy skeptically, "Isn't that a bit long for a name?"

"Shut it, Fatass," Kyle briefly glanced at Tweek, then to the road, "They are infectious, that's obvious."

"Yeah, so until we figure out what they really do and how they do it, which I'm hoping never happens to us, we could just call them 'Infectious'," Tweek explained in one long breath, then gasped a bit like he always did.

The next silence was much shorter, "What about 'Infectioners'?" Token asked, leaning forward.

"I don't think that's a word," Eric corrected.

"That doesn't matter," Kyle countered, then was quiet, "I will admit, it is a bit long..."

Token wasn't offended, he just shrugged, squeezing Tweek's hand again and looking back out the window.

It wasn't long after that Kyle had taken a right, off the main road and up a much thinner, but paved path. They continued up the mountain side for a few minutes, and eventually came upon the gas station Butters had mentioned previously.

"Who the hell put a gas station up here?" Stan squinted at the Conoco, whether the look was of disgust or confusion, Tweek wasn't sure.

Kyle shrugged as the van rolled to a stop, "I don't know, but thank god they did."

With the help of Kenny, Butters had pulled up the bag of clubs. There was five of them, two large flat ones and three medium ones where the plastic putters curved.

"Okay who's going in?" Cartman asked.

The whole car was aware of Eric's selfish ways, but the shared consciousness simultaneously agreed that he was the teen least in shape to venture inside. They all thought for a moment, there was five clubs but seven of them. Cartman wasn't going, and they weren't certain if they were even going to need five people equipped.

But on the other hand, they weren't completely sure what they were dealing with entirely.

Tweek spotted two cars parked on the other side of the lot, so he was positive that there was someone- or something- lurking inside. He took a deep breath, eyes leaving the store's illuminated front to the side of Token's bold face.

"I think someone should stay out here with a club," Kyle suggested, "That way if the car is attacked we can be sure Fatass isn't completely defenseless."

"Hey!" Cartman shouted.

"Yeah but that would leave four of us going in with clubs, and three of us staying out," Stan countered.

"I don't think we'll be needing any more than four anyways," Token inputted, gesturing to the clubs Butters was holding, "And we can't risk Cartman and whoever else in the car getting attacked."

"Butters, Cartman and Kenny should stay," Kyle decided, "Sorry, but you're least likely to get attacked out here. And as of now, none of you are in much shape to fight; with the exception of Kenny, and you're well..."

 _Mourning_ , Tweek finished Kyle's sentence in his mind, hypothetically spitting the word out. But he knew everyone else was thinking the same thing, so he kept his mouth shut.

"I can fight just fine!" Cartman argued, challenging Kyle with a fist.

Maybe it would've been more threatening if the clenched hand wasn't covered in flakes of potato chips.

"Sure you can, but Kenny's better," Stan shrugged, "You can have one of the larger ones, Ken, and Token can have the other one."

"Yeah, Tweek, Stan and I will take the other three," Kyle nodded, a little too confidently for Tweek's liking.

The situation was just beginning to settle onto Tweek's uneasy consciousness. He'd be going _inside_ that place; forced to fight whatever creature(s) lurked within, or the awkward conversation with the employee explaining why four teens just burst into his station with golf clubs. Nevertheless, Tweek would gladly accept a human employee over an infectious one. But what if he screws up? What if he accidentally kills the worker only to discover he was human? What if someone has to save him from the monster? Or, if someone needs saving but he fails?

What if he gets infected?

"And fellas," Butters started as they began to take their respective clubs from the pouch, "Maybe we should stay here for the night, if it is clean. It's getting awfully dark and it seems that not a lot of, um, Infectious, could find their way up here."

"One step at a time, Butters," Stan consoles as he spins the handle of his club in his palm, "If it's clean, we're going to have to explain to the employee why we have a bunch of clubs, we'll worry about nighttime later."

Butters nodded uneasily, "Well, alrighty then."

Stan was the first to open his door, shutting it harshly behind him. He was followed by Kyle, then Token. Tweek reached for his door handle and hesitated, what if the slamming of the van doors caught the attention of all the Infectious in a four mile radius? What if his friends just triggered their impending doom? What if one of the hell spawns come charging out of the front doors to the gas station while he was thinking of these possibilities?

Tweek made a noise and shook his head, finally pulling on the handle to the door, opening the door and stepping out. He followed behind the trio who were already approaching the station. They were much braver, much stronger than him. What if whatever was inside there targeted Tweek, like Red had earlier? He wasn't completely confident that he could fight something like that off, but was sure Stan, Kyle or Token could without a problem.

"Hey at least it's not on fire," Token noted as they stood at the front of the building, resting his behemoth club on his shoulder.

"Yeah that's a start," Kyle looked at the structure curiously, cocking his head.

Stan stood before the door, his hand hesitating at the rectangular handle. Silence had surrounded itself on top of them again, but this time around felt different than the ones that had conflicted the van ever since noon. Tweek was having a hard time believing that it was only five o'clock. The day felt much, much longer than his old wristwatch read.

The difference, Tweek thought, might be due to the atmosphere. He inhaled a pleasant aroma of pines and asphalt, crisp and fresh; the contrast between the smell outside and that of the van's was almost unbelievable. But there was something that lingered in the air here, it made Tweek want to cower back to the cigarette infused van and never return near the station again. An unwelcomed shiver ran up his spine, and as the teen in front of him lingered at the door handle no longer and pushed inside, Tweek realized what was wrong.

It felt unnatural.

Kyle followed Stan inside, and Token shared an uneasy look with Tweek before striding in as well. Tweek took a glance back at the car. Cartman and Kenny were now leaning up against the exterior and Butters was sitting in the open door Tweek had previously exited out of. The latter gave Tweek an unsteady thumbs up, as if it would give the other blonde the courage to follow after their friends. Tweek tried to calm his breathing, failed, but stumbled inside anyways.

The LED light was glinting over them harshly as an electronic bell rung through the store; alerting whatever or whoever lurked inside of the group's presence. Stan had grunted in front of him, obviously ticked by the noise but nobody made a sound otherwise. They all took an unsure step further into the store, daring any Infectious to come charging at them. Tweek wondered- and he knew everyone else was too- if one did stumble upon them, would any of them know what to do?

The unanimous thoughts were shattered when a disgruntled groan was heard to the group's far right. All heads turned at nearly impossible speeds to spectate what and where the noise had emitted from. No one moved otherwise, no one spoke, no one breathed. Tweek was afraid, desperately trying to convince himself that it could have easily been a human that made such a choked sound.

The frightened group were not so fortunate, however. What emerged from the aisle was certainly not a human. It was limping, and as Tweek's eyes trailed down it's rotting form he could see a dark crescent on it's left calf, oozing with thick blood and creamy pus. Tweek could feel the atmosphere shift further into uncertainty.

The Infectious saw them. It made direct eye contact with Tweek. Well, with its one eye anyways; the other was dangling down the creature's blemished cheek by its optic nerve. It didn't move for a moment, didn't make a noise either. It was almost as if the group had passed its silence to the ghoul. Then it looked down to the ground, growled, but continued its limp into a different aisle. It was completely disinterested in them.

The group continued in stagnation for another moment or two. The shared thoughts all wondering what had just occurred. Wasn't the thing supposed to charge at them? Rip their eyes out, claw at their tendons and leave dark bite marks on their flesh? Why had it been so careless of their presence, to the point where it left them be completely? It had a uniform, Tweek realized, meaning that creature was once the gas station's worker. So if he was bit, then that meant...

Tweek came to the grim understanding that the creature was not the only Infectious in the store.

Before the shuddering teen could speak his thoughts into a legible sentence, the others had turned their gaze to the opposite end of the station. There stood the other Infectious, but this one greatly differed from the first ghoul. It's meat had been ripped straight off the bone from its right hand to its upper wrist, there was a deeply embedded bite mark on the curve of its neck, and in addition half of its scalp was peeled off that hung by meek strands of flesh. The bones sticking out of the monster's worn down fingers led Tweek to believe the wounds may have been self inflicted, other than the bite of course.

Everyone in the group, Tweek was sure, had the overwhelming desire to vomit at the grotesque sight.

It shrieked immediately upon seeing the group, much like Red had done earlier, and was charging at them. Well, not the group as whole, but Tweek specifically.

Kyle yelped in fear as it was upon him first, but it had harshly shoved him away before the redhead could react further and moved for Tweek. Said teen begun swinging the club around randomly (later he had to consider how lucky he was to have not hit any of his friends with the weapon). Token had moved, bringing his large club down on the creature's head. The Infectious grunted in pain, but continue its assault on the twitching blonde. The head was dented, and Tweek had managed to lay a blow on its midsection. Tweek glanced up from the quivering creature to see Stan and Kyle turned from them, bashing their clubs at something else which was obscured from his vision.

The attacking infectious was now on the ground as Token continued hitting it over the back with his club. It had reached a shaking arm out and clutched it onto Tweek's ankle. After a brief moment it began moving its gaping jaw towards the blonde's exposed skin. Tweek screeched, stumbling backwards with his other leg in an attempt to jerk his calf away, but had no such luck.

Before the monster could sink its rotting teeth into the little of Tweek's ankle flesh, Token had bashed the rest of its skull in; a profuse amount of blood sputtering out and on the ground surrounding their feet. Kyle and Stan had finished swinging at whatever they previously were as soon as Token had taken care of their original problem.

They stood idle for a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the blaring lights above them and their heavy breathing. Token slowly crouched down and roughly detached the hand that was clinging so dearly to Tweek's ankle. Kyle turned around, his eyes wide and his hands barely holding the club's handle. He stumbled forward, completely careless of the dark bodily liquids that squished under his boots as he padded across the bloody floor. The red head pushed out of the station and propped himself on the door with one hand, bending over and vomiting.

Tweek watched as the three other teens approached the station, no doubt in his mind that they had watched the entire event transpire from the van. Butters and Cartman were walking at an average pace while Kenny saw the situation much more dire and was running over to his hurling friend. Stan helped Kyle steady himself, but it didn't completely stop the teen from puking up smelly bile.

The blonde looked away from the two and adjusted his gaze towards the pair of corpses that were now motionless on the ground, practically floating in their own sickening blood. One of them was the one who had targeted Tweek, and as he looked on he realized that the other corpse Stan and Kyle had beaten was the employee Infectious who was previously disinterested in them.

He peered down at his ankle, which now harbored the beginning of light bruises where the Infectious had clutched him so roughly. He moved away from the mess, panicked, tracking dark blood away from the sight as he shifted halfway into one of the adjacent aisles. Kneeling down, he set his bloodied club aside and brushed his fingers over the bruises. He would have to thank Token later for saving his squealing ass.

"Oh god," Tweek finally heard himself cry quietly, although he knew he had been repeating those words for the past five minutes.

"I think there was only two, guys," Stan announced as the rest of the group stood in the store.

"But maybe we should do a store check, just in case," Token suggested as Kyle wiped his mouth of puke.

Tweek was dumbfounded by how incredibly collected the other teens appeared to be.

It was painfully obvious that everyone in the group was trying to distract themselves from the mess that laid in front of the doors. Trying so hard to ignore the dark crescents that could be found on both corpses, the blood that pooled at the doorway, the fact that those corpses once contained a human consciousness like they currently did.

"I agree," Kenny mumbled, stepping over the corpses and through the aisle directly beyond them; holding his club over his shoulder. Butters followed closely behind the defensive blonde.

Kyle and Stan nodded, moving to the left to explore the aisles that lined there. Token took a hold of Tweek's hand and led him in the opposite direction of where the other two had headed; where the infectious employee had first emerged from.

As they cleared the two aisles, he noticed that the rest of the store was quiet. Tweek swallowed hard in an anxious anticipation. Token had maneuvered him into the next aisle where Kenny and Butters were kneeling over some chips. They were talking in a hushed tone, Butters giggled and Kenny said something inaudible afterwards that made the petite teen laugh even louder.

Token smiled at them for a moment. Tweek stared at the side of the tall boy's face and thought of the way it made him look brighter, along with the entire situation. Then Kyle and Stan appeared from a surrounding aisle. When Kenny and Butters' face fell so did Token's; and they were submerged into the apocalypse again.

"It's clear," Stan announced, "I guess we should stay here for the night."

The shared consciousness let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank god," Kenny's nearly illegible voice came up. He reached up and pulled his parka hood down and out of his face, a mischievous smirk curled upon his pink lips, "I don't think Cartman could handle more of those things, and he wasn't even in the fight."

Butters laughed.

Token smiled.

Kyle and Stan shared a discrete high-five.

Tweek felt safe again. Relatively.

"Hey!" Cartman's voice sounded from the front of the store, "I could totally take on one of those bastards! You guys just took all the clubs!"

The fat boy had come around to the aisle the rest of the group was in, shoving his face full of chips.

"Sure you would," Stan scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

Cartman let out a pleased, "Humph," and made his way over to the group.

"So, what are we going to do now?" Token asked, leaning slightly on his club with his free hand.

"Stan and I are going to check the back room, and maybe find the break room if this place has one," Kyle pointed towards the door to said room, "Maybe you and Tweek can go check the bathroom."

"Oh god," Tweek muttered as Token agreed to the offer.

Butters and Kenny shared a glance, "Well Ken and I are going to go and uh, check out the security footage on the computer."

"Yeah so we can see what happened to those two," Kenny finished.

"I guess that leaves me for lookout," Cartman smiled widely, stuffing the aluminum bag of junk food under his arm and cracked his fingers as he stood proudly; as if it was more important than any of than of the other tasks.

They all shared uncertain looks but allowed Eric to waddle off to the front of the store anyways. Tweek wondered why Cartman was so set on doing something other than shoving garbage into his mouth.

Token pulled Tweek away from the group and strode over to the bathroom door. Tweek yelped a bit when Token burst into the room, despite the strong possibility of a grotesque monster on the other side. The blonde wondered if Token was disrupted by the apocalypse at all.

It was only a one room stall, and luckily nothing lurked within except for a dirty sink and a mold covered toilet. The two boys shared a quiet breath of relief.

"Hey man can you step out for a minute?" Token turned towards Tweek.

Tweek made an unsure noise, "Why?"

Token's eyebrows scrunched up and a confused expression spread across his face, "Do you think some zom-" he paused, rethinking his words, "-Infectious, is just gonna pop out of the toilet and bite off my dick?"

Tweek blinked, taking a moment to comprehend Token's words. He quickly realized it was a joke, and that his friend needed to _use_ the toilet.

The shuddering boy let out a shaky laugh, "Yeah, sorry."

Tweek spun around on his heels and left Token to do his business. He heard the lock click behind him, and suddenly felt embarrassed. He had already been met his wits end for the apocalypse, and it had only been six hours or so.

The teen made his way down the drink aisle, one that he and Token had previously cleared of Infectious, and was surprised to see that the coolers were still functioning. He couldn't even think about food, but drinking was something that appealed to him in just the slightest. Glancing around cautiously, guilt spreading through his consciousness as he pulled out an ice coffee from the glass fridges. Fridges packed to the brim with soft drinks and alcohol.

Tweek screwed the lid off the glass bottle, and temporarily pondered if it was really that bright of an idea to drink any kind of liquid at an obviously infected gas station. He pushed the fear to the back of his mind, the coffee was sealed and even his paranoia could not cease his addiction to the bitter drink. So he put his mouth to the lip of the bottle and took a long, refreshing swig of the umber drink. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the cold coffee slide down his throat and cool his insides.

"Hey, Tweek?" Kenny called to him from the front of the store.

Tweek's eyes snapped open and he drew the drink from his mouth, jumping a bit, "Uh, yes?"

When he didn't get a response he stalked forward slowly and clumsily, peering around the corner of the aisle and across the store. There sat Kenny, his face slightly illuminated by what Tweek guessed was a computer hidden behind the counter. Standing behind him was Butters, his hands holding the edges of Kenny's foam chair. Both teens had a conflicted expression displayed on their faces.

He approached them cautiously, and as he grew closer he noticed that Kenny had muttered something quietly to Butters who nodded uneasily in reply. Their eyes flicked up to Tweek as he stood on the other side of the register. As Kenny clicked on something that Tweek could not see, the confused blonde looked at the decorative lottery tickets that were protected by a damaged plastic wall embedded into the counter.

"Come take a look at this," Kenny ushered Tweek to come behind the register.

Tweek shifted his hips to the right to avoid clashing them with the corner of the counter as he came around the side of them. He stood next to Butters, who was looking down at a bulky computer that rested within the nook of the cupboard. The humming machine displayed a monochrome video. Tweek figured it would have probably enclosed the rest of the store through the views of the many security cameras that were located throughout the building; but Kenny must've made it exclusive to the front door camera because that's all the screen showcased.

The teen must've rewound it, too.

Tweek realized that the footage was replaying what had occurred no more than twenty minutes ago. The screaming Infectious had pushed Kyle out of the way and was going directly for Tweek instead. Kenny had paused the video just as it shoved the redhead out of the way. The confused expression on Kyle's face would have been much more amusing given the situation being different.

Kenny spun around in his seat, causing the two short onlookers to back up a few steps to prevent the motion from hitting either of them. The orange coated boy rested his elbow upon the arm of the chair, and his cheek on his knuckle. He gave Tweek a look of what he first thought was anger, but as he examined the other boy's face more closely he decided it was more of an uncertain, almost smug grin. Maybe that was the teen's new way of mourning; mocking.

"Why did it go after you?" Kenny asked after a few moments of tense silence.

"Wha-?" Tweek's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, he stepped back once more, "What do you mean?"

"Well you see," Butters rubbed his knuckles together, his gaze finding the speckled tiles of the floor, "Ken and I think it's mighty odd that the monster didn't go after Kyle first."

Tweek looked at the ground, he had seen the monster shove Kyle out of the way, but never even began to consider the fact that it had attacked specifically him.

Twitch.

"I don't know man!" Tweek exclaimed, feeling pressure of the two other blondes pushed upon him in that moment, "I didn't even realize!"

"Whoa, what's going on?" all three teens changed their gaze from the situation to the boy across the counter. Cartman stared at them with a skeptic squint, his pudgy arms crossed.

"That's what we're, uh, what we're trying to figure out, you see?" Butters replied anxiously.

Cartman squinted at them, "Figure out what?"

"Guys the backroom is clear," Stan informed, emerging from the aisle two rows away from the register, Kyle trailing close behind him.

It was quiet for a moment, then Token came out from the same aisle Tweek did less than two minutes previously; holding what appeared to be a Sprite, "That's good, so is the bathroom." Token approached them strongly, taking a swig of his drink,

Tweek was almost envious of how confident the tall boy's strides were. If it were Tweek who was put in the limelight, with six gazing sets of eyes following his every movement, he'd be a mess. He'd stagger and trip over his own two feet, sputtering out apologies and shrills with each stumbled step towards the group. Token was the opposite though, going so far as swaying his hips ever so slightly; almost like a girl would. The teen took another sip of soda as he arrived at the counter, still confident, still strong.

Still braver than Tweek.

"What are you looking at?" Token asked, leaning over the register as another portion of the Sprite found its way into his mouth.

"Here," Kenny gestured for them to come around the counter, "You should all have a look at this."

And so they did, everyone went around the register and were clustered behind Kenny; who replayed the footage Tweek had watched one too many times. They were all as silent at the soundless replay. Tweek saw that the other employee infectious had come charging shortly after the screeching one had shrilled. As the video continued, he also realized that the employee wasn't attacking Kyle nor Stan at all; but instead desperately trying to pass them. To where exactly?

Tweek knew, and he was certain everyone else did as well.

It was trying to get to Tweek.

…

The seven boys sat in a makeshift oval in the chip aisle, where they had a clear view of the window in case anything tried to charge in there unexpectedly. Kyle and Stan had cleaned up the two corpses; briskly shoving them in the storage room and Butters mopped up the dark blood trail. No one wanted to deal with the bodies, but since they were, in fact, made up of decaying flesh, they had begun to reek.

It wasn't nearly as pleasant as the van smelled, either.

Before it got too dark, Kenny had left and refilled the van with gas. He figured that if they waited too long the pumps would shut off eventually. Tweek wasn't sure if that was how it worked, but didn't question his friend's logic anyways. Token had barred up the back door, so that eliminated any threat of an attack from the back of the store. Or a surprise attack, anyway.

There was a mess of jackets and backpacks scattered on the floor in an attempt to make things more comfortable for the group of distressed teens. Cartman had broken into many packs of toilet paper he had found in the conveniences aisle. They were expensive cases, but most things in gas stations tended to be. Tweek figured it was because they were mostly open 24/7 and could get a lot of money from people desperate for an item. Now, the fat boy sat upon a messy throne of flimsy toilet cloth.

"So any idea why they target you, Tweek?" Stan started, breaking the silence that had had a tight grip on their group all evening.

Tweek was hoping to avoid the question, which was averted from the counter when the stench of the rotting corpses began to claw at the group. They decided to gather their bearings instead of focusing on the task at hand; that the discussion could be put off for after dark while other conflicts couldn't.

Tweek sat with his back awkwardly against the lower shelf that contained multiple bags of Cheetos that Stan and Kyle had generously helped themselves to five minutes prior. He took a shaky breath in, thinking about all the possibilities that existed as to why the monsters always seemed to target him first. His eyebrows were knitted and he bit his lip, a look of pure focus displayed on his face. Still shaking, still panicking.

When Tweek didn't reply another two minutes later, Cartman inputted with a snicker, "Maybe it's his coffee addiction."

"Zombies don't drink coffee, Fatass!" Kyle countered quickly, shooting daggers at the portly teen.

Kenny mumbled something to Butters, who gave the other blonde a strange look before smiling, "Kenny's got a point fellas," the childish teen looked away from his muffled friend and to the center of the group, "What if it does have to do with Tweek?"

"Well obviously it has to do with Tweek, what else would it be?" Stan quipped back at Butters, but it was really directed towards Kenny.

The group was quiet, then Kyle said, "Maybe it's his clothes?"

They all looked to Tweek, examining him. The teen felt himself quickly grow flustered under the group's stern gaze, so he quickly retorted, "That's impossible! Kyle's wearing a brighter jacket than me! So if it had to do with clothing, he'd be the one attacked!"

Shocked looks was all Tweek gained from his sudden outburst. Then, Token shook his head, "Yeah guys, Tweek's right. He's the dullest dresser here. Unless that's what Infectious look for."

It was quiet again.

"Well," Kenny began, much louder than he had been talking, "I'm going to sleep."

Everyone gawked at the teen as he began to settle himself in the mess of clothing and toiletries that littered the floor. Kenny didn't look at all bothered by their stares unlike how Tweek had always been. Tweek began to wonder if Kenny was just used to the judgement, or maybe if he just didn't care either way. Maybe Kenny was just exhausted, which was understandable.

"How can you sleep in a time like this?" Cartman snapped, and before anyone else could speak he quickly added, "Or is it just because you're used to sleeping on the streets?" The looks were no longer directed at Kenny, but towards Cartman now. Said teen, detecting the groups displacement, retaliated in a shrill tone, "What? It's only the truth! Kenny's fucking poor!"

"Yeah and I'm super fucking rich," Token retorted with a growl and a stern face, crossing his arms, "That totally alters everything that's going on."

"I don't know if you realized," Kyle started, backing up Token's sarcastic comment, "But tonight we're sleeping in a goddamned gas station. Economy isn't really at play here, Cartman!"

"Yeah that doesn't change the fact that Kenny has slept out in fucking streets!" Eric defended, obviously set on stirring a reaction from the mourning teen.

"What does that have to do with anything? I just had to drag two corpses out of the doorway with Kyle because of some disease we don't understand, and you're still ripping on Kenny for being _poor_?" Stan ejected, his voice escalating in pitch as he vented.

"What? _Khal's_ still ripping on _me_ for being fat!"

Butters and Tweek shared a look of uncertainty from across the oval.

"That's cause you are, Fatass!"

Tweek could feel the anger emanating from the four other teens.

"Shut up you fucking Jew!"

At this point in time, Kyle had leapt completely across the circle and on top of Eric; sending toilet paper rolling off in multiple directions. The redhead was throwing punches all of the other teen's wide body, screeching loudly all the while. Token and Stan were the first to their feet, the darker teen taking Kyle off by his shoulders while the other grabbed his ankles.

"Let me go!" Kyle shrieked, squirming desperately in his friends' arms.

Cartman's labored breathing reached Tweek as the fat boy sat up. His nose was bleeding profusely, a look of pure rage flashed on his face before regaining his composure quickly, "Damn guys the Jew lost his temper, what a surprise."

Kyle let out another shriek but Stan and Token's grip proved too strong for the redhead to defeat. So instead he allowed himself to go limp as his friend's lowered him to the ground. He settled himself into his previous spot, and all was quiet again. Tweek worried Kyle's screaming had alerted whatever may be creeping outside, but only briefly.

...

"I guess we'll just have to deal with Tweek in the morning," Stan yawned after much dead end discussion. The only thing they had to go off of was Tweek's spazzy nature, but that lead to a ridiculous conclusion that left the remaining four vigilant teens confused again.

"Motherfucker," Cartman cursed pinching the bridge of his nose in pain, "Khal goddammit."

Tweek blinked at the teen, confused for a moment at what the pudgy male was implying. He soon recalled Kyle's swift punch to Eric's face, and understood what he meant. Upon closer inspection on Cartman's wide body, he could see many cuts and bruise scattered throughout his features. Although there was plenty of toilet paper surrounding their feet, the fatter boy still was not satisfied.

"I wanted to avoid this but," Stan shifted his position slowly to not wake the sleeping redhead in his lap, "There was a first aid in the store room, but Kyle and I wanted to save it for emergencies."

"There's no way I'm going to go get it," Token stared at the ground, then turned his gaze towards Stan, "Those corpses in there must _reek_."

"I'm not going to go get it either," Stan defended calmly.

"Well, how about this; if your name is Tweek you have to go and get it," he pointed at Stan, "What's your name?"

Tweek grabbed his bloodied club and stood up, he already knew where this was going so he was going to spare himself the humiliation. He took a shaky breath, mentally preparing himself to venture into the dark backroom.

"Wait," Token stopped him, "Isn't this for you, Eric? Why don't you go get it?"

"It's not my fault the fuckin Jew can't contain his ginger rage," Cartman huffed, crossing his arms.

Stan rolled his eyes, "Yeah but Kyle's asleep. Even if he was awake he'd still refuse to do it."

It was quiet again, so Tweek turned on his heels and began his intimidating journey to the back. A few of the aisles, including the one the seven resided in, had their lights off. But Tweek wasn't nearly as afraid of the dark as he was of the monsters that could quite possibly lurk inside the store room.

Tweek soon found himself standing before the barred door. He was reminded of the time Craig had convinced him to sneak into the South Park grocery store with him; the reasoning consisted of Craig being out of his favorite cereal. They used the back door because the raven haired teen knew that there weren't any security cameras behind there.

"Why can't we just wait until the morning?" Tweek's voice came in a hushed shrill.

"Because I'm hungry," Craig whispered back, sounding bored.

Tweek didn't argue, he knew if he continued Craig would just offer Tweek to leave and then the taller boy would just go inside the dark store alone. He was stubborn like that, but Tweek loved him anyways.

The lock clicked open with Craig's hands and astounding thief experience, which reminded Tweek of a game they both used to play with the kids around the neighborhood. Craig pushed open the door and they now stood inside a musky store room. Tweek was always a giddy person, so in an attempt to calm himself down he reached forward and took Craig's hand in his, who gave him an unreadable look but didn't say or do anything to counter his friend's action. The blonde took this as a good sign.

They moved together slowly through the many shelves of bulky boxes and different assortments of canned foods, which Tweek thought they looked older than their labels read. The duo soon stood in front of a barred door, which relieved Tweek because that meant getting in was as easy as unhinging the bar. Craig reached forward with his free hand and with one fluid motion the door creaked opened.

As they stepped through though, they realized that the security had been much better than Craig had originally suspected it to be. Not only did shrilling alarms blare throughout the store, but red hazard lights flashed above their heads.

Tweek went to scream but it came out as more of a strangled yelp because Craig had tugged him further into the store. They maneuvered quickly through the aisles. Craig moved smoothly and Tweek stumbled clumsily behind him. Before Tweek could process much else, Craig had cleanly swiped a box of Frosted Flakes off a shelf and the two had curved around the aisle.

They were out of the store within seconds, running all the way to Craig's home as their laughter howled through the night.

Tweek smiled, which felt like the first one that day, in the present again. His hand lingered at the makeshift bar Token had slid inside the knobs in an attempt to barricade the door. The hesitant blonde realized that it was two broomsticks hooked in the metal door handles, and wondered if that would really prevent anything from getting inside. Token must've figured that it would hold the monsters out long enough for them to gather their bearings.

Tweek took a deep breath and used a shaky hand to pull the brooms out individually. The first one was much easier to take out than the second one was. It felt as if he was pulling the strings of his life, and one wrong tug would spiral him to doom.

But in his mind, it seemed that no matter what he did he would die here.

Trying to swallow his fear he set the brooms to the side. He looked down at the ground to reassure himself that it was still dirtied tiles and not thick tar; and although it was only grey speckled floor that stared back up at Tweek, he still felt as though the floor was slowly engulfing his feet.

Without warning, he shoved the door open quickly. The first thing to reach him was the repulsive scent that wafted from the room and towards the shaking teen. Tweek gagged, his eyes finding what was supposed to be two corpses that were on the ground. But found there was only one, and this one he recognized. It's skull was not bashed in like Tweek remembered them both being, it wasn't missing either of its eyes, and no dark blood pooled around it.

It wasn't it damaged at all, in fact.

Instead, it was wearing a blue chullo hat.

Craig's dead eyes stared up at Tweek, who gaped at the corpse in horror. The boy's hat was in disarray, his once vibrant eyes were glazed over in a murky white paste, his skin was a ghostly pale, blue veins were laced up and down his tainted flesh, and black teeth rotted from his open jaw.

Tweek screamed, stumbling backwards multiple steps and dropping the club. He knocked into a stand of cheap sunglasses, which sent the articles askew. Everything was upon him at once as he fell to the ground. The pain in his rear end was nothing compared to that in his pounding head. His hands flung up to cover his ears and his eyes forced themselves shut.

Two hands gripped at his shoulders and shook him. Tweek's eyes didn't open and nor did his shrieking stop until a warm hand was pressed to his mouth. The frightened teen quickly realized that the hand was not of the dead's, neither were the wide, gentle, mocha eyes he was met with when his own olive ones opened. The screaming stopped, but his staring orbs still dripped with wet tears.

Stan was standing behind Token, peering into the store room with a disgusted grunt. Token reached up and managed to calmly remove Tweek's hands from his ears, and asked, "What happened?"

Tweek was not one for crying, in fact Token had never seen the boy weep before; unless he was acting. What had startled the blonde must have been truly horrifying to bring him to tears.

And it was.

But of course, Token couldn't see what Tweek had.

When Tweek had steadied himself and tears no longer fell from his wide eyes, his courage had fallen greatly. But not great enough to prevent the blonde from peering back into the storage room as Stan began to collect the brooms beside the door. Craig was no longer there, replaced by two beat up, reeking corpses.

…

Tweek gazed out the gas station window, wrapped in an intangible feeling. From inside he could see the beat up minivan, the Ford truck and Outback illuminated by the flickering LED light that struggled to light up the parking lot. He could see the silhouettes of the gas pumps, painted in cheap colors that Tweek couldn't see clearly from his position inside the gas station.

As soon as Cartman had been situated with the first aid- that Stan had to retrieve from the storeroom because of Tweek's episode- the remaining boys discussed watch jobs. Tweek had volunteered first because he had been far too buzzed on iced coffee to fall asleep. Or at least that's what he told the boys. In all reality Tweek was far too disturbed by Craig's false corpse for any form of relaxation, certainly not sleep.

With his legs tucked close to his chest and his chin resting upon his knees, Tweek began to wonder if there was any possibility of Craig's survival. He knew he shouldn't confide his thoughts in the teen's existence, but found it too difficult to push to the back of his thoughts. So he sat there at eleven o'clock, destroying himself slowly.

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what had happened to his friend. All he could conjure to his thoughts was the sound of the school windows shattering and the blaring alarm that rang throughout the town. The entire cafeteria was full of shrieks and cries. Tweek had been yanked to a standing position by Token who promptly began to pull him away from the table he was sitting at. As Tweek looked forward, he watched the orange of Kenny's parka slip through the cafeteria doors and out of the chaos; and knew exactly what Token was going to do next.

He remember looking back to see Craig maneuvering through the crowd with Clyde by his side. His friend appeared horribly frightened as the creatures began to crawl through the busted windows. But Craig kept moving forward, heading East while Token led Tweek North. Tweek thought he was searching for something, looking through the crowd for an item or person. The blonde desperately wanted to reach out and take his friend by the elbow and lead him to sanctuary like Token was doing for him. But just as Tweek called out to Craig, the heavy wooden doors of the cafeteria shut.

The memory melted away as Tweek's ears picked up a faint sound in the distance. His eyes shot open and he glanced around in worry. He soon realized that the noise was created by some kind of vehicle rolling down the highway close to them at high speeds. Tweek thought that was dangerous because of how winding the mountain roads were. In the conditions like those, traveling too fast is equivalent to suicide.

But then again, Tweek decided, most things are now.

He contemplated warning the group of the car's presence, but realized it would be redundant to wake them up unless it was apparent in the parking lot before him. The car shifted its position quickly, from what Tweek could hear; it came close to their thin road and then passed the obscured gas station faster than seconds could count. Within the next minute it was out of the station's earshot. He wondered who was in the car, if they had encountered the Infectious, if they needed gas or food, if they had guns...

...If Craig could be in that car.

Tweek's eyes were open wide and he scratched harshly at a scab that was on his wrist. He wasn't completely sure where the cut had come from or when, but he'd picked up the nasty habit of tearing at the worn skin whenever he needed to distract himself from something. If the wound were to heal now, a fleshy scar would be there as a reminder of the cut that was once there.

Trying to distract himself, he stood up and wandered towards the drink section. The cooler lights were off, but as he swung open the glass door he could feel the airy ice wrap itself around his small frame; and he wondered how much longer the fridges would continue to cool off the drinks inside. He shivered and took out yet another coffee, and then pulled out another one after that in case the first one proved unsatisfactory to his cravings. He briefly considered that he may run out of coffee before the fridges actually turn off.

As he left the aisle, he noticed Token was now sitting down on the counter beside the window, which startled the pale teen slightly. Calming down, Tweek slid in quietly next to him. They both stared out the window in silence. Tweek couldn't even begin to consider what could possibly be going through the taller teen's mind while they gazed. Token moved slightly, now looking out and upwards. Tweek shifted so he could peer up at whatever his friend was.

The stars, although many were obscured by the mountains' sharp peaks and the light of the gas station dulled the remaining a bit, were vibrant in the navy night sky. The twinkling dots were laced in and out of a milky trace that stretched far across the atmosphere; something that neither boys would ever reach out and touch. The galaxy, Tweek thought, looked more like an inverted spinal column than spilled milk. Tweek felt a sigh escape past his lips as they stared up and passed grimy windows to the intangible existence of the stars. An existence Craig always believed to be tangible

It was the simpler things, he supposed.

"Hey, Tweek?" Token's voice came from beside Tweek.

Olive eyes pried themselves away from the millions of shining lights and found soft, mocha ones staring back at them. Tweek blinked, "Yeah?"

Token seemed to be chewing on something, thinking about what to say next, "If it's not too," he paused, "out of place, to ask, what did you see in the storage room?"

Tweek blinked, his gaze shifting to the floor, oddly comfortable in his friend's company, "It was him, Token, he was," Tweek made a strangled noise, "He was dead."

"Who was dead?" Token's eyebrows knitted in confusion.

But he knew exactly who Tweek was referring to; and Tweek knew he knew.

"You know," Tweek repeated his thoughts in a whisper, swallowing a wad of spit in an attempt to push down a rising lump that had formed in his throat.

"You're right," Token put a hand back behind them, and leaned on the arm, "I do know who. But I'm wondering how."

Tweek made an unsteady noise but was otherwise quiet, running his hands through his messy hair before resting his head in them, "Your guess is as good as mine."

"I guess so," Token replied, more to himself than to Tweek.

Silence fell upon the two again, Token blew pink bubbles with his gum and Tweek downed the rest of the first bottle of iced coffee.

Just as the blonde popped open the other bottle, Token spoke again, "He loved you, you know that?"

Tweek froze, his eyes searching the ground as if it held an explanation for what Token was saying. He finally choked out, "Yeah but," he looked up at his friend, "That was just a stupid acting thing that ended in seventh grade. And he was the one who ended it."

Token scratched the back of his head with the hand he wasn't leaning on, "'Cause he thought you were unhappy."

Tweek looked back to the ground, "I thought he was. So I stopped holding his hand and-" he paused, scrunching his eyebrows together, "I thought he liked Wendy."

Token laughed, which surprised Tweek, "Craig _hated_ Wendy," he chuckled, glancing at Tweek sideways, "But you want to know what he hated even more?"

Tweek stared.

"The fact that he had to break it off."

"Why?" Tweek's fast reply came.

"Because," Token stuttered out a few more words that Tweek couldn't quite make out, "He was scared that anything more with the three-year-long staged relationship, you two wouldn't be able to be friends afterwards. He just wanted to be with you."

Tweek felt his eyes grow wet, so he looked back at the ground to obscure his tears from Token's vision, "I wish I had told him."

"Oh trust me, you and Craig are not the only ones with that regret," Token looked away from Tweek and back out the window.

"What do you mean?" Tweek asked, not averting his gaze from the tiled ground.

"When Craig first told me he had the hots for you, for real; he made me promise not to tell anyone. Then a day later you told me you did too, for him I mean," Token chuckled, "And when Clyde started acting so strange around Stoley, I began to think I was the only straight one in the entire school. But hey, I wasn't complaining. More girls for me."

Tweek stared at him, no longer mindful of his damp eyes, "So what do you regret then?"

"I regret not telling either of you, that you were locked in a fear relationship. Craig was so convinced you didn't like him, and you were so convinced that he was straight, that neither of you made any moves that would even suggest a real relationship," Token paused, "And I knew, Tweek. I knew how both of you felt and didn't help either of you. And maybe if I did, he would have escaped South Park with us."

Tweek was silent, searching Token's expression. He sighed, confident that whatever had been bothering the teen was still there, "Do you miss her?" Tweek whispered.

Token's eyes widened momentarily, then softened as he nodded, "Yeah, I do."

Nichole Daniels was a girl who used to go to the schools in South Park. Tweek thought she was rather nice, because around the time she moved away most girls were rude to everything and everyone who they didn't like. Because Tweek was a guy, a gay guy at that, he was never really sucked into any drama at South Park. But Nichole was nice to him in the rare occurrences that the two interacted. She moved away in their freshman year, leaving Token with nothing but an aching heart.

"Well, if it's any consolation," Tweek twitched a bit, moving his hand and itching at his wrist, "We're both in this together."

Token nodded, "Yeah, I guess neither of us are going to see either of them ever again."

It was quiet again after that. Token had looked back up to the sky and Tweek found himself nursing from the bottle of lukewarm coffee. His eyes closed gently, thinking back to Craig and what Token had just revealed to him. Tweek almost wished his friend had not told him anything. Although it worked fine as closure, it left the teen wondering if, perhaps, he was braver like Token, could he have told Craig about his feelings.

A lot of things would be different if Tweek was braver.

He was certain of that now.


	2. Phantom

Chapter Two- Phantom

Tweek did not know the time his olive eyes had creaked open and searched the askew view in front of him. His neck had craned in an unusual position as he gazed in uneasiness at the horizontal shelf packed with cheap junk food. Blinking multiple times, he attempted to conjure up the memory of how he had achieved such an awkward position.

It didn't take long for the thoughts to recall themselves to his exhausted mind. He remembered scraps mostly. The sirens, the Infectious, the purple blur of Token's shirt as he was shoved into the mini-van, Red, Kenny's sobbing, the silence, the two Infectious in the gas station…

Craig.

Tweek's eyes snapped wide open and he shot upwards by an unwelcomed jolt to his spinal cord. He glances around, suddenly dazed by the abrupt action. The makeshift sleeping quarters that surround him are now abandoned of people. As his eyes coordinate again, his ears pick up a conversation. Staggering onto his feet clumsily, he swipes his thin, brown jacket off of the floor. He realizes that, on top of being a light warmth to his midsection, it was also a cushion for his head from whatever ungodly hour he went to sleep at up until his uneasy awakening.

Taking a lousy glance at his worn out wristwatch he shambled forward. It was seven thirty one AM, not too of an early or late rise. He peeked his head out of the side of the aisle and tried to focus his morning vision on two ajar figures. As soon as his eyes had settled he realized it was Stan and Kenny standing beside the counter. Kenny seemed to be explaining something quietly as Stan fiddled with something that jingled with his finger movements. Kenny fell silent when he saw Tweek step out of the aisle and approach them slowly.

Kenny nudged Stan, who was facing the other way to alert him of Tweek's presence. The raven haired boy twisted his feet around, body catching up shortly so that his sapphire orbs laid on Tweek as the blonde meekly shuffled towards them. As the distance between them grew smaller, the shuddering teen realized that the shiny chain in Stan's had was actually a ring of keys. His eyebrows had knitted in confusion as he was finally upon the two.

"Kyle's sick," Stan had blurted as soon as Tweek stood before them.

Tweek blinked, his tired mind not processing Stan's words immediately. In a groggy voice, he returned, "Where is everyone?" then made an unsettled noise with his tongue.

Kenny glared at Stan, but answered Tweek's question with an obviously forced smile. This made Tweek wonder how the boy was still standing after suffering the loss of his sister, "They're in the back of the store trying to find any medications for Kyle."

"Then where's Kyle?" Tweek pressed on.

Kenny pointed to the key ring in Stan's hand, "Apparently, Kyle had found the key off of the employee when they cleaned them up yesterday, and it unlocks the Ford in the parking lot. Butters looked over the other body, but we still can't get into the other car."

"Yeah, the Subaru," Stan finished.

Tweek blinked again, "Okay but," another noise came from his mouth, "Where's Kyle?"

Realization seemed to dawn upon the other two boys' faces, "Oh," Kenny spoke, "He's sleeping in the Ford. Butters is out there with him. It's only a cold, so he just needs to rest."

"Yeah, Kyle gets sick all the time," Stan reassured, though Tweek could tell the assurance was more to himself than to either of the other boys.

"But we still want to get him some sort of medicine," Kenny added quickly.

Tweek nodded shakily, but before he could question further Token and Cartman had emerged from an aisle behind the trio.

"Sorry guys we looked but there's nothing in there that the Jew could use," Cartman said, crossing his arms in almost a defiant way.

"Actually, only I looked," Token growled, glaring poison at the fatter boy, then finished, "But yeah, there's no kinds of medicine in there."

Stan let out an irritated growl, staring at the ground for a moment as if he was processing the unfortunate news. After a minute or two of this pregnant silence, Stan changed his thoughtful gaze from the floor to Kenny's sky blue eyes, "We should go find some."

A blanket of confusion had wrapped itself around Tweek's small body, clutching him with all its force, "What?"

"We're all bound to get sick up here at one point anyways, we should go down into one of those rich people houses in the valley," Stan explained in one heaved breath.

It seemed that the pausing silences would have their grasp on the group all day once again, and Tweek wondered if it would ever lift itself from them.

"That's true," Token's voice came in a tone just above a whisper, then cleared his throat, "I mean, maybe we should just go get medicine? Even though Kyle isn't deadly sick, we don't know what will happen next."

"I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry," Cartman spoke, scratching his chin thoughtfully. Although unanimous thoughts knew that he wasn't really going to assist in the heist at all.

"Stan, Token and I will go," Kenny decided.

The whole group changed their gaze to the dirty blonde, "What? What happens if we get attacked here?" Tweek asked worriedly, making strange noises and tugging on his worn locks.

"We haven't gotten attacked all night so," Token itched at his cheek, thinking for a moment, "Maybe you guys should wait in the van, in case you need to drive away."

"You should be okay," Stan nodded, though his voice conveyed uncertainty.

"We obviously won't, seeing as I'm the only one who can put up a fight in this fucking shitstorm," Eric boasted with empty words.

Tweek rolled his eyes, but the group allowed Cartman to believe his lie anyways.

An electronic bell chimed above their heads and all eyes slid to the front door. Butters was standing there, rubbing his knuckles together silently out of nervous habit; something Tweek wish he had adapted over his clumsiness.

"Hey, uh, fellas," Butters meek voice reached them. The blonde shuffled over to them without further explanation.

"Is everything okay?" Stan asked slowly with a brow raised.

"Oh, uh, yeah! Kyle just told me to come back in here, because he didn't want me to catch his sickness and all," Butters stuttered.

Stan was quiet for a moment, then he said, "I have to go talk to him."

Tweek watched Stan's legs as they took him out of the store and outside. Kyle had already stepped out of the car, and even at such a distance Kyle looked much paler than he had already been the day before. Tweek wondered if the white shade of skin was genetic or if the ginger just didn't receive enough sun to tan. Unlike the day before, which was quite sunny, a blanket of clouds had rolled over the rocky countryside, seemingly an occurrence that happened overnight.

The redhead was leaning against the truck almost in a weak fashion, looking tired and perhaps even thinner than Tweek had first perceived. Stan had spoken by the time Tweek realized this. Kyle appeared to regain some of his energy because he shot something back at his friend about medicine. The duo exchanged some heated words until the raven haired teen had retorted something, and the redhead had fallen silent.

"God, look at those two fags," Tweek heard Cartman mutter under his breath from beside him. He immediately tensed up at the language, his mind recalling the slander Craig and him had received in the sixth grade. Which was coincidentally around the time the town came to its senses and all the strange happenings ceased occurring.

Also surrounding the time Craig had ended the play relationship.

The door had opened before Tweek could process much else and a defeated Kyle had walked inside. He was obviously upset, but even Cartman didn't mention anything on his distraught expression, "Token, Kenny, Stan's waiting for you outside. He said to bring the clubs."

Both teens didn't make a sound, but nodded to the redhead as the stalked away from the group and disappeared into the aisle that they had made into their sleeping space. They came back out not much of a moment later. Token had approached Tweek and wrapped his arms around the blonde in a tender hug. Tweek, for an unapparent reason, felt safe suddenly and briskly hugged the taller teen back. With the cold metal of a large club pressed against his back, he felt his existence validate itself again.

This strange safe feeling had left as abruptly as it had appeared, Token pulling away from Tweek and striding out of the gas station. Kenny followed in pursuit and watched as the two step inside the large truck. Stan was driving again, the blond beside him in the passenger seat and Token in the back. The car started with a smooth hum and Stan backed up.

…

"So," Butters began, pacing back and forth in front of Tweek and Cartman. Kyle and Butters had been watching the security footage. But eventually the redhead had gotten up to sleep in the aisle. It an hour since then and Stan, Token and Kenny had been gone for three. In that time Butters had continued watching footage of the day before on the bulky computer that hummed behind the cash register. Tweek had been watching the dead road and Cartman had been doing the only thing he knew how which was shoving his face full of greasy chips.

Tweek inquired wordlessly how long their stock would last with the fat boy around.

As soon as one o'clock was displayed on the digital clock that hung above the glass door frame; Tweek had grown bored of the watch and decided it was Cartman's turn to take view of the lifeless road. When he came into the gas station, however, his demand of Eric's help was put on a short hiatus as Butters began explaining what had happened to the two Infectious that tainted the station no more than twenty four hours prior.

"It seems that the one that screamed had uh, driven up here to get help from the employee," Butters explained, blue eyes meeting Tweek's wide ones.

Cartman let out a fake yawn, "This is boring, Butters. I already know what happened."

Butters was immediately offended, "Well then, Eric, you can excuse yourself and I can explain to Tweek myself."

"Actually," Tweek took a sharp breath in, then twitched, "I was wondering if you could take up watch?"

Cartman blinked, staring at Tweek as if he had grown a second head, then burst out laughing, "You're… You're joking, right?"

Tweek's eyes narrowed in rage, "No! Why the hell would I joke about that!?"

Cartman's face fell into a stern seriousness, "Because, there is no way in hell that I'm going out there to watch for brainless zombies. That was _your_ job."

"Well," Butters exerted, "Eric, since you already know what's going on in here, maybe you should go find out what's, uh, what's going on out there!"

"But that's Tweek's fucking job!" Cartman insisted, voice raised.

"Yeah, but I've already been out there for two hours," Tweek spat at the fat boy.

Cartman stared at Tweek's angry face, then looked to Butters only to find that he was just as upset, "Fine, fine," he stood up begrudgingly, "I'll be the _mature_ one and take up the stupid watch."

The two blondes said nothing as their eyes followed Eric's pudgy body waddle towards the door. Just before he stepped out, he turned around in the open doorway, "You'll regret this, though," and then he left, allowing the door to shut slowly after his dramatic exit.

Tweek could feel the tension in the store seep into the ground and disappear. He looked up to find Butters staring at the doorway, "They've been gone an awful long time, haven't they?"

Tweek swallowed harshly, thinking of what could possibly be taking them so long, "Yeah," another noise escaped him, "They have I guess."

"I told him not to go," Kyle had stepped out of the chip aisle and taken a seat next to Tweek.

"What do you mean?" Butters asked, staring at Kyle now.

Kyle shrugged weakly, "I told him that he shouldn't go. That we don't know what we're up against. That I'd be fine again by tomorrow."

"And what did he say?" Butters urged quietly.

"That he didn't want to lose me," Kyle whispered without skipping a beat. The sudden upturn of emotion from both Stan and Kyle made Tweek question their relationship. He knew they were best friends, but suddenly the blonde wasn't certain if that was the case.

Before he could voice his thoughts into a legible question, Butters spoke, "Well, we all care about you a lot, Kyle."

The redhead looked thoughtful, then returned, "Thanks," a quick pause, "Do we know what was up with those zom-" a much longer pause followed by a glance at Tweek; whom had been silent throughout the exchange, "Infectious, that were here yesterday?"

…

Julian Louis had been euphoric all day. With one hand on the wheel and the other on the luscious bouquet of assorted roses that sad idly on the seat next to him. Today was the day. He was going to change his stunning girlfriend into his just as beautiful fiance. He also knew that in the not-so distant future, she would be his wife.

On top of getting a promotion at work on that sunny day, he had also caught a face smacking deal when he bought the glamorous engagement ring. His eyes were lifted away from the gloomy roads to the benevolent sky all in one lucky afternoon. And the rest of the evening was all planned out; he would meet his to-be fiance at her work with the bouquet as a pleasant surprise, hook his arm with hers and lead them out to the shiny new Mustang (that was waiting for him in the dealership in Denver) he had purchased the previous day. The nicest restaurant he could find had a reserved seat for just his lover and himself. The seat picked out with the perfect view of nighttime Denver. After a fantastic meal and the breathtaking scenery that surrounded both the interior and exterior of their location, the couple would stroll around the wealthier side of the city. Then, as they stood on the Millennium Bridge that overlooked the city, he would propose. She would be, of course, ecstatic. Julian knew she would be, she was just as crazy about him as he was for her.

It was their happily ever after, after all.

His aloof attitude was put on a momentary halt, however, and was replaced by sincere confusion and worriment. Up ahead on the winding Colorado road, his hickory eyes spotted a figure. As the distance from his navy Subaru and the figure shortened Julian could make out its actions. It was definitely a person, but they were hunched over and spilling a murky orange liquid from their mouth. The vehicle rolled to a stop beside the person, whose puking had not ceased. The tinted window came down with an electronic buzz as Julian stared at the other skeptically.

"Hey buddy, you okay?" He asked.

There was no response, but the figure halted vomiting and turned halfway towards Julian, still hunched over with tangerine vomit dribbling down its chin. By the time Julian noticed its coral black eyes he had already stepped out of the car and the person had stumbled over to him. It wasn't very interested in him, per say, but as it leaned against Julian's fearful form it had taken a certain liking to its human companion.

Well, not Julian; the human part.

Julian yelped loudly in pain as the monster sunk its teeth deep into his neck flesh. Carnival red blood trickled down his collar bone and seeped into his blue and white flannel shirt. The creature, Julian quickly realized, was certainly _not_ human. It stumbled backwards when he shoved it harshly. It lost its footing within the next second, tumbling down the hillside that sloped against the road.

With a hand flying up and pressing itself onto his new wound, Julian let out a distressed groan. He wasn't completely sure was had happened. All thoughts mulled over with the epitome of all things terrifying. The thing just _bit_ him, for chrissakes! How was one supposed to react when someone (or something) bites them!? There was no way he was going to travel to Denver in the immediate minute, he would bleed out long before he got there.

Or maybe he wouldn't, but he wasn't really willing to take any more risks at the moment.

Shambling back into his navy Subaru, Julian whined aloud as the pain of the wound settled into a tight sting. He was terrified of what doom that bite might caused and he cursed himself for not listening to his lover when she advised him to carry a first aid in his car. Another groan escaped him as he slid into the front seat, his ecstatic mood shattered by the turn of events.

The little Subaru made an awkward u-turn just as the monster had finished climbing up the steep hillside. Julian had been long gone before that fact could mean anything to him. There was a gas station he had taken a pit stop at no more than fifteen minutes ago, if he went fast enough he'd get there in ten.

As he drove along, his fingers twitched against the steering wheel involuntarily. It was as if they were going into a spasm. He felt himself grow antsy and restless. An odd craving churned itself around in his throat, and he licked his suddenly dry lips in a hungrily fashion. He tried to focus on the road before him, but he found his eyes lingering on his surroundings instead; only succeeding in concern when he found himself turning off the highway and onto the road that wound up to the Conoco.

He managed to park in the lot lopsidedly, but by that time he felt control of his body slipping away from him. He stumbled into the gas station. The first thing he noticed, which was oddly because Julian had _smelled_ him, was the pale yet fit employee who was sitting dully behind the counter that was to his right. The employee was flipping through what Julian perceived as a pornographic magazine. The employee's umber eyes slid up from the porn slowly to Julian standing before him, then went back down to pamphlet. It wasn't until five seconds later that it seemed to click with the employee that Julian was losing a _considerable_ amount of blood with each passing moment.

He shot up in his chair, and his mouth went to ask the only question logical, "What the hell happened to you?!"

Or maybe he would've asked if his mouth wasn't so dry. He didn't understand why, but he was _afraid_ of Julian- terrified even. The gooey crescent that laid on Julian's neck curve had chilled him to the bone, so much in fact that he found himself incapable of speech.

Julian had been tasting the iron in his mouth long before he coughed out, "Help."

That was the dialogue that assisted the employee focus more directly on Julian's state than his bite. This was only another person after all, there was no need to be so afraid, "What happened to you?" the words finally choked out, much weaker than the worker had wanted them to be.

"Some fucker bit me!" Julian growled loudly, shocked out how much anger had swelled inside of him in the past minute.

"Um," the employee blinked, unsure how to respond, "I, uh, have a first aid in the back. Follow me please, sir," the sentence was fumbled and the worker had stuttered at almost every word, but Julian comprehended it and trailed behind him.

The door to the storage room had not even been breached before Julian found himself unable to resist the urge to _maul_ the employee. It was as if all self control had slithered from his grasp and his mind went under. He wanted to eat the worker alive. Then the primitive identity slid abruptly over the sophisticated one, and he reached forward and tugged the employee back.

Before he could taste the sweet, crispy flesh of the worker's arm muscle, the human had landed a swift kick on Julian's midsection. Before the kick sent him backwards, Julian had managed to scrape at the worker's right eye with his flailing hand. But even in his cannibalistic form he was still clumsy and had fallen down with a shriek. He crawled forward, desperate for the warm blood that surged under the worker's thick skin.

The employee being screaming in pain as his eye hung from the thin of its optic nerve. He tried desperately to focus on Julian's approaching form, but found that impossible. He just couldn't find mind settling on anything other than his ajar eyeball.

As soon as Julian had a firm grasp on the worker's calf it was over. The employee tried to stumble backwards and jerk his leg away but only succeeded in falling backwards. He screeched loudly, now kicking frantically at Julian's approaching jaw. This proved futile as well, because in his haste and now poor eyesight his aim was far too inaccurate for the kicks to even graze Julian.

When Julian finally sank his teeth in the calf muscle, however, he found himself no longer interested in the worker. He certainly enjoyed the taste of the flesh that got stuck between his teeth, but he no longer wanted the worker's. He released the leg and stumbled up, licking his chops of the dark blood that had surrounded his lips. The man he had just bit looked up at him in terror as what was left of Julian shambled away. He managed look down at his oozing ankle, and his screaming picked up in pitch.

He had shut himself into the store room in an attempt to compose himself. One hand rested on his bloodied cheek and the other clutched the plastic name tag that was pinned to his polyester shirt. "Martin," was what it read, but his real name was Samuel. The idea of random strangers who came to the gas station knowing his true identity was absurd to Sam. Maybe if he knew that a bite to the calf would be the death of him, he would have been warmer to the idea. Perhaps that way more people would know him and he wouldn't be forgotten.

The thought of losing grip on life terrified Sam, so he pushed the idea to the back of his mind. He tried to convince himself that the thing outside the door was _not_ a zombie, and instead someone who was just drugged out of their mind.

Within four minutes of crouching in the closet, he began to shake and twitch involuntarily. Sam thought at first that perhaps it was only the fear that was the cause of his rattling, but as another minute passed he had shot up from his position. He could not sit still for another moment, taming his restlessness by pacing around the room mindlessly. Sam found condolence in glaring with his one eye at the

Within two minutes of uncoordinated wander, he found himself craving something.

…

Tweek was doubtful that the story was one hundred percent true, but he was in no place to argue with Kyle and Butters' tale. Butters provided the plot while Kyle explained the facts, which was the only thing that mattered at the moment. But he allowed Butters to explain "Julian"'s backstory, because apparently there were wilted roses and an engagement ring in the Subaru. But that's all they could see beyond the tinted window.

"So, it took twelve minutes for the poor worker to turn?" Butters asked Kyle as soon as the redhead finished the story.

"That's what the time stamp said, remember?" Kyle shrugged before letting out a deep cough.

Tweek stared at Kyle as he finished his fit, but before he could ask of his friend's well being the front door had burst open.

"You guys!" Cartman heaved through labored breathing, "You guys! You guys!"

"What is it, Fatass?" Kyle shot up at Eric, but a bit of worry had slipped from his otherwise harsh tone.

"There's a car guys! Its coming up the hill! You guys have to come and see!" The fat boy exclaimed, fists clenched and a dire expression displayed against his soft features.

Kyle was the first to his feet, followed by Tweek and Butters. Snatching their clubs from the ground, they all rushed out the door in an organized panic. They all ran to the end of the parking lot, eyes searching the road futilely for any sign of life.

"Where is it?" Tweek asked sharply, his eyebrows knitted in bafflement.

Kyle's head shot around to hone in on a noise behind then. Tweek realized that Cartman had not followed them outside. The redhead beside him let out an angered growl, but choked out a cough halfway through it. His long, thin legs strode quickly back across the asphalt and towards the gas station. Tweek took one last unsteady look at Butters, then the road, before following behind Kyle.

"Let us in, Fatass!" Kyle demanded, banging on the glass entrance to the station with his fist.

Cartman was inside with a smug grin etched into his lips, twirling a key ring around on his fingers, "Why the fuck should I?"

Another growl had escaped Kyle's lips, "Why the fuck would you lock us out?!"

"Well, yesterday you viciously attacked me. Which is okay, because I'd expect that from a filthy Jew like you," Cartman began counting on his fingers, "Then Tweek pinned the watch job on me even though he was- and still is- perfectly capable of doing it himself. And maybe I just hate Butters."

Kyle was fuming with anger, his knuckles turning white as he clutched his club in his fist. Tweek was worried that, if he did lose his temper, he was going to bash in the windows followed by Cartman's face. But instead, the redhead had a different idea. Tweek wasn't sure why he and Butters were not speaking, but they remained silent as Kyle lifted the club high above his head, then charged at the Subaru. He took a sharp hit to the passenger window, successfully shattering it into millions of glass shards.

Tweek and Butters looked to their friend in horror as he reached into the barren opening and unlocked the door. He swung it open quickly and climbed inside. Slamming the door harshly behind him, Kyle climbed into the back seat and didn't return into their view again for another hour.

…

The rain came fawning to the gas station by noon. Butters, Tweek and Kyle were all huddled up underneath the small overhang of roof next to a large ice machine. Butters stared idly at the ground, Kyle looked onward to the fogged mountains that neighbored the gas station's with a focused expression. Tweek was not like them, he wasn't thinking carelessly or trying to figure something out, but instead he looked to the dark clouds that draped over their heads.

Murky puddles had begun to form at the curb of the sidewalk, but they were not deep enough to prove as an apparent conflict and their knees were tucked in anyways so nobody was getting soaked. A clap of thunder rolled over the clouds and crevices of the hills as it echoed through the Colorado terrain. Butters and Tweek both jumped at the noise, but Kyle looked nonchalant.

"Where could they be?" Kyle asked, brows furrowed.

"Dead," Cartman answered, stepping his body halfway out of the warm gas station.

Kyle's forest eyes flicked away from the wooded mountain side and to Cartman, "Finally got lonely in there, Fatass?"

"I _was_ going to extend an invitation to you three to come inside again, but now I don't think I will," the pudgy teen retorted smugly, his hands inside a greasy bag of chips again.

Kyle fell silent, Tweek assumed that he had seen no point in further argument.

"You think they're dead?" Tweek asked, glancing up at Cartman cautiously.

A cat-like grin spread across Eric's lips, littered with chip debris, "It seemed like the mute finally learned to speak."

Tweek blinked, trying to decide if the fatter teen was teasing or not. Was that some sort of joke or was Cartman just ripping on him for being quiet throughout the tragedy? He was going to inquire, however his voice was caught in his voice as he remembered the old nickname. He was walking down the hallway of South Park's junior high. It was only a week after Craig had ended their little play relationship and moved on to a girl, Heidi Turner.

Heidi was pretty, nice and smart. Tweek supposed that's why- one day after Craig told him that he didn't have any real feelings for Tweek and that there was no longer a need for a relationship built on facade- it stung so harshly. He couldn't even _begin_ to compare to Heidi's status.

After that he only talked to a select few, and even those were just scraps. What hurt the most was that he had put on a mask of happiness whenever Craig leaned down and kissed Heidi, whenever the two held hands only three yards in front of Tweek, or the times where Craig would ask her where she wanted to eat or if they wanted to go to an amusement park instead.

And Tweek would watch, his insides crumbling onto themselves as he told Heidi how cute her and Craig were and to Craig that he was happy that their little affair was over. Token knew too, how it killed him inside to watch as the love of his life was snatched away by a pretty, smart and caring girl who was too friendly to hate.

Oh, but how Tweek _loathed_ Heidi. There were days where he would happily murder her in cold blood if it meant to get another chance with his raven-haired knight who changed his life for the better. He would like to believe that he helped Craig's life, too, but knew deep inside that that was all Heidi's doing. His chest ached as he lay awake on restless nights, which overtook the majority of Tweek's life. He'd place a hand upon where his blood pulsed through his chest, pumping crushed dreams and soiled hope through his tired veins.

And so was that, he confided in the keen ear Token used to listen to Tweek's story of dismay. He knew, Tweek knew, Craig knew, it was a triangle of lies and love. It was poetic, almost. Craig must have sensed Tweek's misery because a day wouldn't pass where Craig did not inquire of his (fake) ex-boyfriend's well being. These simple questions of Tweek's emotions were the prime reason it was impossible for him to move on from the tender teen he claimed Craig to be.

He never spoke, never volunteered for questions or addressed problems vocally for the next year. It wasn't until high school, long after the nickname "Mute Mouse" had clung to Tweek's identity, that he was veered into the world of socialization and required groups that he began to gain his ability to speech. Which he never truly lost in the first place, but rather remained scarcely used.

To think he had nearly forgotten.

"How can you be so careless, Cartman?!" Kyle demanded for what felt to Tweek repeatedly. Olive eyes shredded harshly away from the sky to the angered redhead beside them, "We are in a goddamn apocalypse, with the looming threat that three of our closest friends might be mindless, brain-eating monsters and you're teasing Tweek for being _quiet_?!"

"Jesus Christ Jew, calm your tits I'm only trying to lighten the mood," Cartman crossed his arms defiantly, "And yes, Tweek, I do believe they are certainly dead because it has been five goddamn hours."

Tweek looked away from Eric and to the clouds again, trying to convince himself that there was a chance of their survival. Maybe they were just on an Infectious-killing roll and had cleared out twenty houses already. Perhaps they had grown lost but just found their way and were going to be back within a matter of minutes.

Maybe they forgot about Tweek and moved onto safer place.

Craig used to calm Tweek by convincing him of simpler things. You're missing multiple pairs of underwear? It wasn't gnomes, they were just lost in the laundry room. You're out of coffee? Don't worry, I'll just go downstairs and make you some more. Cartman's teasing you? It's just because he's insecure and needs someone to pick on, just ignore him and focus on me.

Zombies probably ate my brains out? Don't worry Tweek, I'll find you,

"I'm not mute," Tweek murmured, closing his eyes, "I'm just afraid."

"What was that, Mutey?" Cartman pressed forward, eyebrows raised in amusement.

"I'm not mute!" Tweek had finally snapped, all the gooey pressure from the situation finally breaking the thin threshold of his mind. But he wasn't giving Cartman any more material to bully him. He was quick to his feet before the flabbergasted teens around him could even begin to process his actions. Pointing a slender finger harshly against the fat boy's chest, he stared directly into Cartman's hazel eyes and thought briefly about how he appreciated Token's mocha ones much more than Eric's. "Listen Fatty," Tweek said sharply, "I'm not a mute, I've never _been_ mute. That was something dumb you came up with because you needed an explanation why the only noises _I_ ever made were because I was scared. You were so caught up in needing a way to tease me you didn't think for one second that something might actually be wrong with me!"

"Just because you were scared of my sudden silence you thought that teasing me into a depression would solve your problems! Our friends are _dead,_ Cartman! Each one of them! They're all dead, and now we only have each other, and you're still treating us with such disrespect?!"

Tweek was out of breath, or he would've been anyways; if he had actually _said_ all those things. All those words that long since needed to only be spoken, or yelled, whispered, maybe even conveyed through body language. No, they were not his words because he never breathed them out in the slightest transcribe. It was Craig's, his voice ushered in the back of Tweek's sore mind for him to attack the fat boy with his incredible vocabulary that no one ever suspected of him.

No, but instead he replied to Cartman, "I didn't say anything."

"Figures," Cartman scoffed, squinting at the rain which had heavily escalated as their conversation had gone by. The loud hammering of heavy drops drowned out the other boys' thoughts, too loud for them to think clearly without their attention drawing back to the pattering rain once again. But not Tweek, his mind was delve far too deep to find any distraction in the rain's presence. Instead, he confided his thoughts in a certain boy whom he could not shake from his consciousness.

Tweek remembered cloudy days like this. Rain was scarce in South Park because of it's chilly location in north Colorado. But on the rare warm days in the summer, rain pelted the town. He remembered waking up one June morning, twelve year old eyes meeting Craig's warm blue ones. He smiled at Tweek, mouth full of wires wrapped with navy bands. They laid in Tweek's bed for another minute grinning at each other. Tweek flashed his green braces because of the beautiful boy who lay next to him, while Craig was smiling for another reason. Tweek was sure it was the dribbling sound of rain that beat against his roof.

Craig had sat up, taking Tweek by the hand and running out of the room before his blonde companion could straighten himself. Feet barely touched the stairs as the giggling duo charged down the flight. The door was flung open as the two continued running, bare toes taking them along the wet asphalt and down the street. Their hysteric laughter echoed through the sleepy neighborhood. The new wrist watch that Craig had bought Tweek for his birthday clung to the smiling blonde's wrist, displaying that it was only seven in the morning.

They raced out of the cul de sac, Craig was spinning Tweek around and Tweek was far too euphoric to hear the rain or their dancing feet slapping against the asphalt or even the heart that was hammering in his throat and ears. All he perceived was Craig's smiling brace-face, his laughter that filled the air and his mind.

The two collapsed onto the concrete not long after, their faces a deep scarlet from ugly voice cracks and tiring laughs. Craig had made a joke and Tweek hadn't quite heard all of it but he laughed anyways because everything was funny and great. They're fit of laughter saw no end, shimmering eyes squinting up at the skies as their faces crinkled with snickers; blinking tightly whenever the heavy droplets of water found their way into the small of the boys' eyes.

Tweek blinked when he felt cool splatters of rain patter at his ankles softly. His tired eyes gazed down at his dirty pants and noticed he must've relaxed his body as he remembered the rainy day in South Park, five years before. His legs recoiled quickly back to his chest, right hand finding his left wrist. He rubbed the worn leather of the wristwatch that he had salvaged after all those years of fake relationships and painful heartache.

Looking up from his clothed knees, he withdrew his hand from his wrist. Delicate eyes glazed over the misty parking lot. He made out the fogged gas pumps to his left, the dented mini van next to the Subaru with a shattered window on his right. He gazed at the Ice machine that Kyle was leaning on, then to the red locks of hair that were sticking out of the Jew's ushanka, then to Butters sitting besides him, and finally found themselves looking back to the lot.

Directly in front of Tweek, he was sure, was the mountain that neighbored the one that lined up against the gas station's rear. It was invisible to the teen's eyes at the moment, the mist of the rain obscuring the rugged side lined with pine trees and remote shrubs. Tweek tried to imagine the rain drops dripping off the needles of the slender pines and falling gracefully to the ground. Attempting to see what insects might crawl upon the leaves of the shrubs, the woodland creatures that may cower underneath or inside the trees for cover from the heavy rain.

When that failed, he tried to conjure what the forest might look like if it wasn't raining. Tweek hoped to see fawns frolicking about the woods, birds chirping happily to one another, insects buzzing and scattering about the wildflowers and stray limbs that littered the forest floor. He imagined himself walking side by side with Craig, amongst the deer and birds, the insects and the flowers, feeling safe and warm in Craig's presence and Craig returned by feeling complete around Tweek. The lips and teeth that Craig used to speak would ask how Tweek's day was, and Tweek's voice returning the question after he answered. Craig would laugh and explain some absurd thing to Tweek that had happened; and then Tweek would laugh too and they would joke and stop to pet a deer or let a squirrel crawl up Craig and perch on his shoulder. Craig would take his hat off and pull it over Tweek's mop of blonde hair, tell him how happy he was and how much he loved and adored Tweek as a person. Then they would kiss and the squirrel would chatter happily before scrambling off Craig's form and onto a nearby pine.

A peaceful smile fell upon Tweek's face, the thoughts coming up as a mess only he could understand.

His aloof eyes found themselves peering across the lot. There, a silhouette of a figure stood. Tweek squinted, blinked, rubbed his eyes, but the shadow of a person still stood there. It- no, they- seemingly weren't doing anything. They weren't gesturing with their hands or arms, they weren't waving, walking, stumbling, shifting, they weren't even moving.

No, but they were doing something perhaps.

They were _staring_.

Tweek probably should've turned to Butters, or Kyle or even Cartman and asked if they were seeing the figure, or even anything beyond the lot. He probably should've freaked out, shrieked or shouted. He should've done some way to alert his friends of the person's presence. Should've made some sort of attempt to warn them for the overall safety of the group. Perhaps even try to get the attention of the lonesome person who stood an infinity away from him.

There were a lot of things Tweek should have, but did not, do.

But there was one thing that shouldn't even crossed his mind, that he _never_ should have done.

And that was the one thing Tweek Tweke Tweak did do.

He stood up and _ran_ towards the figure.

Tweek was, in no way, prepared for whatever may await him across the lot. He was disarmed, the rain was making it difficult for him to perceive anything in front of him, and he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was even real; let alone a conscious person. But he wouldn't have run unless he was confident that the figure was wearing a blue chullo hat.

As soon as he reached Craig he had leapt in the air, eyes wet with not only rain but also tears. Craig had extended his arms in a welcoming way, warm grin stretched across his lips and eyes wide with excitement. Tweek laughed as he threw himself onto Craig, ears deaf to the shouting of his friends behind him. He didn't care anyways, Craig was here after all.

But instead of feeling the strong arms wrapped tightly around him, instead of looking at the pristine sapphire eyes, instead of hearing the warm laughter that was suppose to emit around him; he felt the cold embrace of solid asphalt. All he could see was blurry specks of grass that had slithered up through cracks in the lot, and all he could hear was the shrill ringing in his ears.

…

Tweek woke up with a start; Kyle was shaking him furiously. His tired eyes blurred in and out of focus before finalizing on Kyle's red locks. His ushanka was off, and Tweek thought that all the red curls that were cluttered around his face made him look cute. He wondered if that was the reason Stan questioned his sexuality. Craig's hair certainly wasn't the reason Tweek had fallen for him, but it was a bonus feature that made his crush all the more pretty. No, Tweek had fallen for Craig because he was _Craig._

Stan must've fallen for Kyle because he was Kyle.

Tweek had a dopey smile stretched across his face as he remembered how the fine raven hair of Craig's felt as he ran it through his shaking fingers. Craig would laugh as Tweek attempted to style his dark locks upwards, only for them to flutter back down when he released them. Then Craig wanted to fiddle with Tweek's own mane, but the blonde argued that there was no way that _anyone_ could maneuver their fingers through his curls and Craig was no exception. Craig didn't seem to care much about Tweek's refusal, as he would reach up and fiddling with the golden strands anyways.

Tweek smiled at what he now regarded of nicer times.

Nicer times indeed.

His moment of euphoria, however, was shattered when he realized that Kyle was still present in front of his hazy eyes. Said olive hues jolted wide open only a second later, trying to get a tangible grasp on his surroundings. Cartman was standing in the corner of his eye, shouting for Tweek to get the fuck up. Butters was kneeling besides Kyle, a worried expression displayed on his red face that Tweek assumed was recently wet with tears. He shot up like a rocket, "What?! What's going on?! Oh god! Are there zombies?! Are we under attack?! Oh Jesus, _are they inside_?!" he demanded, fingers clasped tightly on Kyle's wrist.

"No! Have you even been listening?!" Kyle shouted angrily.

Tweek's face flushed in embarrassment. Had he enraged Kyle by accident? Was he asleep too long? If what Kyle was saying so vital, why didn't they wake Tweek up sooner? No, they would have. Was it because he leapt into nothing and knocked himself out? Because he kept seeing Craig appear out of nowhere?

"Someone's here!" Butters exclaimed in a much quieter tone than the other boys.

Tweek's eyes widened, "Oh Jesus, who is it?!"

"Like hell we know!" Cartman shouted.

"They pulled up in a black truck!" Kyle exclaimed, "We need you awake in case they think we killed you or something!"

"Or worse, they try to kill us!" Cartman added quickly, now crouched beside Tweek's shuddering form.

The electronic chime that rang through the store made the group fall dead silent. There was hurried shuffling that could be heard from the front of the store, and the boys knew that whoever it was would be upon their aisle soon. What if they were raiders? What if the Infectious had evolved and now knew how to drive cars and wield guns? What if they wanted to take prisoners? What if it was someone they knew?

What if it was Craig?

"Guys!" a familiar voice called throughout the store, "Kyle! Cartman! Butters! Tweek! Where are you guys!?"

" _Stan?!_ " Kyle shot up from his crouched position. His worn down sneakers squeaked on the tiled floor as he took quick strides around and out of the aisle.

"Kyle!" Tweek heard Stan return. The door opened again, more movement could be heard after. Cartman and Butters were both on their feet long before Tweek could process much else. He slowly stood as well, worriedly glancing at his wrist watch. It was about quarter until three. So he was out for nearly three hours? Stan, and hopefully Kenny and Token too, had only just returned. What could possibly had kept them so long?

Tweek walked around the aisle so that the entire group of reunited teens were no longer obscured from his vision. He could see the orange of Kenny's parka kneeling beside the purple of Token's shirt. Alongside the darker teen were Stan, Kyle and Butters. Cartman stood above them, eyes wide as he stared down at Token's wheezing body. Quickening his pace he finally got to see what everyone was staring at.

There was a dark crescent lined against Token's neck.

Tweek nearly fainted at the sight of sticky blood and pus oozing from his friend's wound. He felt sick, ill nearly like Kyle was. Token was _bitten._ One of his few remaining friends was going to turn into one of them. An Infectious; a growling, repulsive, cannibalistic zombie. He wondered frantically if there was anyway to stop it.

Token was sweating, his body fidgeting in a way that dwarfed Tweek's own spasms. He was coughing up a cherry colored liquid, but it smelled absolutely disgusting. The boy was also flailing his arms around slightly, trying to grip onto something. His expression was fearful, but also filled with pain.

"We cleared a bunch of houses, guys," Stan explained dryly, biting his lip to keep tears from falling out of his sapphire eyes, "Real big, rich people homes. All empty. Then there was this one that," he paused with a sniff, "They came up behind him out of nowhere and ganged up on him."

"We got him back to the truck before they could maul him," Kenny added grimly, "But not before he got that." Kenny didn't gesture to nothing in particular, but they all knew he was referring to the deep bite that inflamed on Token's neck.

Tweek fell to his knees. Breath caught in his chest as he stared down as Token's body continued to rattle. The big hand had finally found something to clutch, and that something was Tweek's pale wrist. Mocha eyes that were once filled with passion and warmth had turned dead. They slid up slowly as their body stilled. Token no long shivered, but his orbs met Tweek's fearful ones. No one shouted, no one spoke, no one even breathed.

Token blinked slowly, then a growl grumbled at the base of his throat. The hand that had a firm grasp on Tweek had faded from its warmth, and Tweek could no longer feel Token's fast pulse surge through his flesh. His head shot up suddenly and what was left of Token shrieked. He stared at Tweek and licked his lips. Tweek frantically tried to jerk his hand away, and Kyle and Stan were both shouting and trying to pull Token off of Tweek.

The dark tongue licked hungrily at bloodied lips, all signs of Token's previous humanity had vanished and been replaced with staggering, primal values. Teeth were bared and the breathing corpse lurched forward in a stifled lunge. Before Kyle and Stan, or anyone else for that matter, could stop Token it had been too late. The once shiny teeth had sunk themselves into Tweek's forearm.

Tweek screamed with all his might, but it was all futile. He had been bitten by Token, the same boy whom he had interlaced fingers with no more than twenty four hours prior. The same boy who had confessed a secret to Tweek, the same boy who harnessed feelings for a girl Tweek knew, the same boy who was great at basketball and the same boy who had filthy rich parents, but the boy who managed to stay humble regardless.

The same exact boy who shared a close friendship with the teen who Tweek loved so dearly.

And Tweek watched.

He watched the life return to Token's mocha eyes.

Token had flung himself backwards with a start, heaving and screaming. The entire group of teens fell silent as Token stared horrified at Tweek. Tweek clutched his bleeding arm, searing pain waving through his body in quick jolts. Said teen grimaced loudly, fearful for his human identity.

" _Tweek,_ " Token heaved, "Tweek, oh my god."

The group shifted their stares from Token to Tweek, then back to Token and then to Tweek again. The bleeding blonde stumbled to his feet, feeling himself lean forward and lose his stomach contents right onto the gas station floor. He continued to puke until all that was left was acidic bile and water. He was scared out of all of his wits, every last one of them.

"What…?" Kyle breathed heavily.

"Tweek," Token had began to move over to the hunched over blonde as Tweek wiped the vomit that had dribbled onto his lips and chin. He leapt away from Token as soon as the previously infected had stepped over the reeking puddle of vomit and put a cautious hand on Tweek's shoulder.

"You _bit_ me!" Tweek shrieked, stumbling backwards.

"I…" Token stuttered, and Tweek thought briefly of how that was one of the first times he had ever heard the bold teen trip over his own words, "I don't know what came over me."

Tweek glanced down at his watch. It was now ten minutes until three. As soon as the clock struck three o' two he would be a brainless monster.

"Token did you just…?" Cartman was lost for words as well.

"Twelve minutes," Tweek muttered, then shouted, "Twelve minutes is all that I have left of human thought!"

Kyle and Stan shared a severely uneasy glance.

"...Did you just get cured?" Kenny asked slowly, eyebrows furrowed in deep confusion.

Token wiped blood off of his lips, staring down at the thick substance that was now on his sleeve and blinked, "Man, I don't know."

A loud sob coursed through Tweek's middle and out of his throat and he fell to the ground in a grim state. He curled his legs against his chest and tucked his head into his knees, bitten arm pressed against his other hand. "I never got to tell him I loved him," he whispered. But nobody else heard but his grief filled heart.

It was stagnant for a moment, then Token whispered, "Tweek, I'm so sorry."

Tweek was furious, but he didn't want his last moments of life to be filled with rage. He retorted quietly, "It's not your fault. You couldn't help it. Oh Jesus, I'm going to become a zombie."

"Am I the only one freaking out over the fact that Token was just _fucking cured_?" Cartman asked loudly, "I mean, come on the odds of at least one us getting bit is pretty high. And frankly I'm pretty happy it was you, Tweek. Token is such a better use to the team than you, no offense of course. But I mean, come on, it's obvious that you're the expendable one. But how?"

Shocked glares shot at Cartman. But all were too baffled to create a legible sentence. Sensing the group's displacement, Cartman put his hands up defensively, "I was just saying what everyone else was thinking okay? He's going to be dead soon anyways, he might as well know."

"How?" Kyle began, "How can you be so careless? Why do you do these things? Why do you _purposely_ antagonize everyone? Tweek is going to _die,_ Cartman! Dead forever! And you're telling him how useless he is when he only has a few minutes left to live?! Are you happy, Cartman? Are you getting off to the fact that Tweek is broken down in tears because his best friend just mauled him, that he's going to die with regret?!" Kyle's voice began to escalate as he argued, and Cartman just stared blankly at the redhead.

"No," Tweek mumbled sorrowfully, "He's right. I am worthless." It was quiet, and he wasn't sure why he was confessing it now. Maybe he wanted someone to know, anyone to know of his self loathing. He waited for a response, but is was quiet, so he continued, "I don't have much to live for, anyways. You're all so brave, so smart and you have people who love you so much. I'm just a worthless spaz."

Only the slapping of the rain on concrete outside could be heard for a long minute. The watch on Tweek's wrist counted down his last moments.

"Well," Butters stuttered out weakly which surprised Tweek because out of the seven boys Butters was the least composed, other than Tweek of course, "I'm not brave, smart and everyone who loved me may be dead. So, Tweek, maybe you shouldn't be so darn hard on yourself."

It was obvious the meek teen was trying to sound supportive, but his voice quivered with fear.

A few minutes of silence was spent, and Tweek wondered what Craig would say if he saw Tweek's sobbing state. He would hold Tweek close to his chest, and tell him that everything would be okay. He would assure that even if Tweek did turn into a zombie Craig would let him bite him because he wanted to be with Tweek in whatever means possible. He'd tell Tweek how much he loved him, and then he would kiss him and promise to love him in whatever form the blonde took on. And Tweek would smile and his tears would dry and the rest of the twelve minutes would be spent with one another.

When Tweek's wristwatch struck three two, however, Tweek did not feel nor act any different.

…

"So." Stan was pacing back and forth anxiously. Tweek stared at his shuddering fingers that were curled in his lap. The whole group was sitting down at the front of the store. Butters was mopping up the vomit and blood, Cartman had enforced it that way. Token was sitting farthest away from him, separated by Kyle, Kenny and the pudgy frame of Eric. Neither had talked since the incident, which had occurred about an hour prior. Stan had called for a momentary hiatus in the situation because the rain had lightened up considerably, meaning it was the prime time to unload the truck without too many obstacles.

The first thing Stan had unloaded- with the help of Kenny and Butters- was the medicine they had retrieved. It was a strangely large amount, Tweek noted as Kyle had began wrapping a sterile bandage over his bite mark. But it made sense, seeing as they never ran into the Infectious up until their last raid. The medicine consisted of basic things: bandages, standard liquids, antiseptics, and even diabetic supplies they salvaged just for emergencies. Tweek thought Kyle was one, but learned shortly after questioning the red head that he had been misinformed. He was unsure of what the team may need insulin for, but he didn't object otherwise.

Food was the next thing that had been pulled out of the Ford. It was mostly canned goods, MREs and bottled water, but there was a minuscule amount of dried meats the teens had brought as well. Stan claimed them to be for only special occasions. Though Cartman had already opened a bag of jerky by the time the thinner teen established the rule. Butters questioned why they had got so much food, judging by the fact they resided in a _fucking gas station packed to the brim with shit_. But Stan waved him off, claiming that it was better to be safe than sorry. Tweek highly disagreed, seeing as the headstrong attitude the three stronger teens had almost cost them the life of two of their compact team of seven.

Some miscellaneous items, such as jackets, pillows, other clothes, and even a few blankets had followed the food out. Kenny had apparently found the bedroom attire underneath the back seats of the truck, and that they did not actually come from the heist on deserted homes. Tweek didn't care either way, perhaps this way he would be more comfortable at night even though sleep was scarcer than it had ever been.

The only thing that didn't seem to come out of the truck was guns. There was now a baseball bat and a some sort of knife in their small armory, but Cartman noted that there wasn't anything that would "really do damage against those fuckers". Tweek wasn't complaining, being in the mere presence of a gun gave him too much anxiety to function properly, _using_ one was a lost cause. But Kyle just shrugged Cartman off and the truck had finally been unloaded.

"Tweek can't turn, or maybe it just takes longer for different people," Kyle began, looking up at an anxious Stan.

"But that doesn't make sense, Token and our employee zombie-," Kenny stopped, "I mean, Infectious, both turned in about twelve minutes. Why is Tweek so special?"

"Yeah fellas, I'm not the smartest person here but I think that's pretty darn weird," Butters agreed, leaning the bloodied mop against the wall of the store before taking a seat beside Token.

Tweek moved his eyes away from his shaking fingers to the dirty ground in front of him. What made him so special, anyway? He had always been close to the average Joe- save for his timid, worried behavior. Never had he ever been associated with someone who was special. The idea of him ever being more than a spaz was completely intangible, and he never particularly pondered the topic. Tweek wished he knew someone who was special, then maybe he would have some sort of clue as to what was happening to him.

Except for Craig, Tweek decided, Craig was very special. To him, anyways.

"Maybe it's all the coffee," Cartman shrugged, chomping down on yet another bag of precious jerky.

It was quiet, then Kyle said, "Cartman, that's retarded. We've all drank coffee, that means that if it was the coffee then we would all have _some_ kind of resistance to it."

"I don't know Kyle," Stan had stopped pacing to face his friend, "Tweek does drink a lot of coffee."

"Yeah, but do you even realize how irrational that is? We would know if it was his coffee! Even if it was the coffee, then Token wouldn't have turned around the same amount of time that the employee did, which we know was exactly twelve minutes. _You_ were the one who even said that it had taken ten minutes to get up here, then two minutes later he turns? That's not a coincidence," Tweek had tuned out Kyle's speech around this time, it was just making the dilemma furtherly complex. So he just stood up, interrupting the "meeting".

Tweek pushed open the door and stepped out. His anxiety was beginning to get it's foul grasp on his better judgement. What if the other boys decide that the only solution was to kick Tweek out? Or worse, what if they lock him in the closet with Craig's facade corpse for a week, or longer? What if they don't even spare him for that matter, and if they take turns beating his skull in with heavy clubs? His breathing quickened along with his pace. The rain was pelting harshly on his already soaked back, but he didn't feel it.

As his feet brought him to the shelter of the pumps, he had set his brain further into panic and doubt. They really were going to kill him. It was just like Cartman said; Tweek really _was_ the weakest asset to their team, the expendable one, the fuckup, the good-for-nothing member…

The freak.

He shrieked loudly as something came into his vision abruptly. The teenager was stumbling towards him. Tweek was paralyzed in horror. It was Craig's dead body, coming back to torment Tweek for leaving him for dead back at their school. This was all his fault, if he was braver he could have saved his love. But now, his rotten, soaked, _infected_ corpse was stuttering towards his frightened form.

Craig was upon him now, his decaying hand clutching Tweek's shoulder. He moaned in pain, rotten blue eyes glaring up at Tweek. Olive eyes returned, and the terrorized teen felt longing mix in with his fear. He didn't understand, why couldn't Token have just grabbed Craig instead of Tweek? Then Craig would be alive and well, while Tweek would be rightfully suffering in whatever hell awaited him.

When Craig's free hand on Tweek's cheek, all fear swelled up in his throat and got caught. He couldn't scream, he couldn't move, he couldn't talk. He was frozen, chilled to bone with rainwater and Craig. Craig placed his foul lips on Tweek's bloodied, and Tweek found himself not really wanting to move anyways.

And then he was gone.

Tweek blinked. Where had Craig went? He was just before him, how could he just disappear? Had he evaporated with the rain, or perhaps was it all Tweek's imagination once more? That made the most sense, his fucked up mind was the only plausible thing that could conjure up such a horror instanced as Craig's tattered corpse.

He was shaking, confused, and alone. But he didn't scream. Tweek composed himself, which was meaningless because his composed state is everyone else's frantic. He forced his feet forward and moved out of the sheltered pumps. He stared up at the rain, droplets occasionally getting in his eyes and thought hard enough then maybe he'd be able to hear Craig's childish laughter echo through the mist.

No such cackle could be heard, though. As there was no more giggles to be made. This was because there was no more Craig for such laughter to emit from. But Tweek thought that that was okay anyways, because he himself wouldn't live for much longer for any matter. So instead, he pondered his situation and stared back down at his bandaged arm that had blood seeping through the soaked fabric.

How could this happen? A zombie apocalypse, in a time where aircraft lights shone brighter than the stars. How could such a thing have been allowed? Where was their rescue? Where was all the war machines the US had built, that could take down an entire nation? Sure, they were cannibalistic monsters, but there had to be some sort of cure.

What if it was him?

No, that couldn't be. A mere human could not be a cure to such an epidemic. That was the most intangible thought he had ever conjured, it was simply silly.

It did, however, bring him comfort. It made sense; why he couldn't turn and how a bite of his flesh reversed Token's. That did make sense, and although he knew it was not the truth it was a solution. And he didn't care, it was a worthless statement but somehow he had an answer. He didn't need to use it, and it didn't need to be tangible, it just calmed his racing brain. There was now a sliver of chance that there may be a resolution.

"I thought you had run off for good," Tweek heard a light chuckle behind him. Token stepped beside him, looking up at the ran with happily grim expression, "I couldn't see you because of the pumps."

"Sorry…" Tweek tried to say it quietly, but he was pretty certain that if it wasn't raining then Token would've had to cover his ears.

Token didn't say anything about it, though. Instead he questioned, "How's your arm?"

"Oh, um, it's fine!" Tweek tried to calm his frantic thoughts, and added, "What about your neck?"

"It's okay. Just stings," pause, "I'm so sorry Tweek. I don't know what came over me, and then I bit you and all of a sudden… I was back."

Tweek shrugged, "It's only the second day, things are only gonna get worse."

Token must've taken that as an offensive thing, he must've. Tweek didn't mean for it to be offensive, it just didn't have the correct context for it to not be. Token would leave him for sure now. Leave Tweek to contract a sickness in the heavy rain. Leave him to run away into an infested world.

He would leave, like he had left Craig and his family. He would turn around and go back into the gas station, and he would never come back. Olive eyes would never meet mocha ones again because they would run away into the most sick riddled parts of their mind, and into the now ill world. Tweek would run too far, and the only thing that would ever be able to catch up with him would be those olive eyes that bear so much confliction.

But either did not.

"I guess that's true," Token agreed, "But I doubt any of us will be leaving the gas station for a while. We have no reason to now, anyways."

Tweek didn't respond. He hadn't exactly warmed up to the idea of being stranded with six other temperamental teens in a small space yet. Perhaps he would learn to find comfort in their company, but that day was far from the current rainy one. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it was just six of them, and if they had left a particular fat teen behind in the burning town of South Park. It may have made it even the slightest more bearable. Tweek silently wished it was Cartman that they had left instead of Craig.

The two stood there, and eventually Tweek had stepped back into the shelter of the pumps. They just stared out onto the misty parking lot and whatever was obscured beyond. This time, no shadow Craig had appeared in the fog and Tweek had not ran anywhere. There was no argument between a certain cute redhead and an antagonizing teenager. It would have been silent, perhaps if not for the now softer rainfall. And Tweek felt safe for the first time that day.

The once vibrating pain that seared on his arm had faded into a dull hurt, but Tweek couldn't really feel it anymore nor did he want to. The only sensation Tweek experienced was Token's comforting presence. He almost couldn't comprehend the idea of Token ever being a mindless, infectious creature. The two didn't need to further discuss their dark crescents, Tweek had already forgiven both Token and himself over the affair.

Olive eyes caught something to their left that they had not noticed before. It was a wilted tree, which was odd seeing that it was only a cold august day. Tweek turned his head towards and realized that it was not wilted, but the oak was simply dead. It looked as though it had not sprouted leaves in years; soaked to the very core with over a decade of weather and age. Branches and limbs snapped at random points, some which clutched onto their origin with thin tendons and others that had simply fallen to the ground.

Tweek was confused, had that broken tree always been there? Even when the weather was clear he had not seen the oak. Which was yet another strange thing, he had not even _seen_ an oak ever since they left South Park. Beyond the sleepy town was simply pines and shrubs. Tweek was about to ask Token if he had noticed the tree prior to the moment, but halted in the motion when he noticed the lonesome figure beside it.

It was Craig again.

Tweek wanted to run again. He wanted to charge away from his alive, tangible friend to the phantom. He wanted to leap into Craig's arms and never let go again. Desired so desperately for Craig to hold him and tell Tweek how much he had missed him, how much he loves him, how much he needs him. He wanted to feel Craig's sweet, hickory infused kisses all over his face and body. He wanted to sit by the broken tree and listen to Craig's soothing voice rant about his sister's ballet tryouts. He didn't want the tragedies or the loss to catch up with them, he just wanted to stare at Craig and listen.

He wanted to run, but he didn't.

Tweek didn't run because he knew. He knew that Craig was dead, and that it was time to let go.

So he tore his head away from Craig and the dead oak, and looked to Token. The taller teen was staring at the sky, a small grin plastered on his strong face. The rain was only sprinkling at their feet now. Mist still hung in the air, but a bit of the neighboring mountain had been revealed.

Token must've sensed Tweek's eyes boring into him, because he turned towards the blonde. The soft grin contrasted his bold features as it widened, "It's been awhile since we've seen rain, huh?"

"Yeah," Tweek replied, and he was sure that it was nice on Token's ears because it was the softest thing he had spoken all day.

Token's gaze averted from Tweek and found the mist in front of them again. He stepped out of the shelter of the pumps with that stupid grin still etched onto his lips. He closed his eyes and turned his head towards the heavens. Token opened his mouth to catch raindrops like a child would.

And then, in a time where the stars shined the brightest in the night sky because there were no aircrafts to compete, Tweek was in love.

Or at least, he wanted to believe he was.

...

Hey guys! Sorry it took so long, I've been caught up in a lot of school work. Anyways, here's a clusterfuck of a chapter.

Uh, so I guess I should clarify that this is still Creek. It's not all just going to be flashbacks, I promise.

Anyways, enjoy! I'll try to work on my update schedule!


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